


DRAUGR

by harrypanther



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: Modern/Supernatural  AU. Just when everything was going so well for Astrid, she is taken away from it. Refusing to give-up and now a ghost, she needs to solve the mystery behind her death because her killer is coming for Hiccup next. HTTYD/GhostDisclaimer: I don't own How To Train My Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks. Ghost was written by Bruce Joel Rubin, directed by Jerry Zucker and released by Paramount pictures. It was the highest grossing film in 1990. BrawlerGamer wrote the detailed outline and adapted plot for this fiction.





	1. One

**One:**

Life was almost perfect. That was the only conclusion Astrid Hofferson could make as she paused to check the progress of the move into their new home. Of course, Hiccup was in the middle of things, directing the transfer of his sculptures-completed and in progress-to the new studio in the top floor of the three storey townhouse they had bought in the heart of Berk City. Astrid was far more organised, practical and impatient but Hiccup couldn't stand back, worrying about his precious creations and racing forward to grasp an edge with his strong, sensitive hands before it impacted on the door-frame.

She smiled. He got very precious about his art-though, as a sculptor and artist he had every reason to want to ensure his unique pieces weren't damaged-but in everything else, he was easy-going and very relaxed. He paused, turning for a second to search her out and the moment his eyes alighted on her, he smiled, his emerald eyes shining with his love and shaggy auburn hair ruffled in the breeze. In a moment, he was bouncing down the front steps, his tall lean shape moving with purpose as he homed in on her, sweeping the unsuspecting Astrid into his arms. She squealed.

"What are you doing, you doofus?" she asked, half-amused and half-irritated, kicking half-heartedly. His warm arms were very comforting around her lithe shape, his face mere inches from hers.

"I realised that no one was moving in the most important item," her told her huskily, his emerald eyes inspecting her own azure gaze. His handsome face, with the sharp jaw and the adoring expression sent a flutter through her chest. He hefted her in his arms and turned to the house.

"Oh no, you are not carrying me in like a piece of furniture, babe…" she protested as their friends watched. Hiccup's cousin, Snotlout; his best friend Fishlegs and her closest friend Heather all stopped and burst out laughing at the sight of the feisty blonde complaining as her tall auburn boyfriend stopped on the threshold and pressed a tender kiss on her mouth, silencing her protests.

"I love you, Milady," he murmured, staring into her eyes. She smiled, her irritation melting away.

"Ditto," she smiled back.

"Ditto? _Ditto?_ You may be a hotshot in the cutthroat world of finance, Milady, but you really suck at romance," he teased her, his eyes crinkling.

"Do not," she retorted playfully.

"Do too," he replied childishly, his smirk a real challenge. She whacked him with her fist and he yelped, overbalancing and falling backwards into their new home. "Owww….." he whined, though he had held her safe in his arms. She rolled over and stared down into his face, a hand ghosting along the sharp line of his jaw, darkened with a little scruffy stubble and her lips tilted in a smile. Her thick golden braid flopped over her left shoulder.

"Do not," she insisted, leaning close. "Not everyone is as demonstrative as you, sculptor boy!" He lay back, staring up into her eyes, his hands light on her waist.

"As long as you love me, Milady, I can cope with you never saying the words," he said in a resigned voice, the uncertainty in his voice making her pause. Her smile faltered: why did she find it so hard to express her feelings, to confess her love for him? Why did it matter so much to him to hear the worlds-and to her not to say them?

"I…" she began, seeing the hope and anxiety mingle in the glorious emerald gaze. But she softened the tension by kissing him fervently, feeling him respond with equal passion…until a voice pulled them back to reality.

"Ewww-get a room, cuz!" Hiccup rolled his eyes as the two pulled apart. The stocky jet-haired man huffed as he tried to get past, his arms full of art supplies.

"Snotlout…we already have one," he sighed.

"And you two are lying in the way of us getting the bed into it!" Fishlegs added, half of the frame in his steady grasp. Astrid huffed and reluctantly got to her feet.

"You're a bad influence on me," she smiled, staring down on the rumpled shape in baggy, paint-splashed jeans and faded green tee-shirt. Hiccup smiled happily back, the goofy smile the one she had fallen in love with.

"I do my best," he smirked as he stuck up a hand and she hauled him to his feet. He skipped back a couple of feet, his eyes teasing. "You're not going to punch me again, are you?" he added. She gave a smug smirk.

"I actually only reserve that for people who annoy me," she told him as he walked slowly forward to pull her close.

"Then I'm safe because I'd never dare do that," he admitted, then winced as he heard Snotlout trip over one of his sculptures and drop his favourite easel. "My cousin, on the other hand…" he sighed as he pulled away to go and check what his cousin had broken now. Astrid sighed and stared after him, wondering how she had ended up with such an amazing and loving man that she certainly didn't deserve…especially after the way they had met…

oOo

_One Year Earlier…_

Astrid awoke slowly, her head muzzy with the aftermath of a really good night out. It had been one of those work-related things that she had reluctantly gone along to with Heather-her best friend and deputy CEO-because it would provide opportunities of networking and 'letting her hair down', which was Heather's persistent refrain. It had also been her birthday, though her idea of a celebration would have been a cup of cocoa in front of the computer. Personally, Astrid hated parties but the chance to meet with 'Chief' Stoick Haddock, the infamous CEO of the Haddock Corporation, the largest Finance and Investment Brokerage House and Bank in Berk and the East Coast, had just been too good to miss. So she had dressed in her best dress, a stunning azure silk form-fitting knee-length that she knew suited her eyes and had dutifully turned out, probably drinking too many champagnes on an empty stomach and….

Reality hit her at that moment. She had no clue where she was…but she was in a bed that certainly wasn't hers and she had no clue how she got here. She lifted her head: the green sheets were rumpled and the pillow on the other side of the bed was dented, showing someone else had slept in the bed with her. More reality slapped her in the face: she was naked in the bed. Whoever she had gone home with had taken advantage of her drunkenness and of her.

Anger and embarrassment warred in her chest as she sat up and cast around for her clothes, strewn on the floor. Shaking with anger, she grabbed them and swiftly dressed, expertly loosening her hair and then rebraiding it before she grabbed her bag, pulled her heels on and stormed through to the kitchen to find the person who had shamefully taken advantage of a drunken woman.

_It wasn't hard,_ she realised swiftly as she heard the sounds of cooking and arrived at a modern, white kitchen. There was a light, slightly nasal voice talking to an unseen other person as she rounded the corner. A tall and lanky young man was standing barefoot at the stove, expertly frying bacon, a pile of pancakes already keeping warm. Casually dressed in training pants and a loose tee-shirt, his auburn hair was shaggy and dishevelled from sleep, his sharp jaw darkened by stubble and his brow furrowed as he concentrated on his task.

"No, bud-none of this is for you," he said, his emerald eyes flicking to playfully inspect a large black dog lying at his feet, big green eyes looking hopefully at his owner. A long arm snaked over to a mug of freshly-brewed coffee…and as he looked up, her saw her. His handsome face lit with a genuine smile as she approached and he half-turned to her. "Morning, Milady! How…" he began but got no further. Infuriated beyond words, she walked up to the swine, punched him so hard in the stomach that he collapsed to his knees and stormed off, leaving him coughing on his knees. The dog gave a small whine as she slammed the door…and was gone.

oOo

_Present Day…_

Hiccup had managed to rescue one of his larger slab-built pieces before Snotlout managed to drop it and shouted at his cousin until the man understood how important it was to him. It was an enormous abstract work that he had constructed over a month and had been so huge he had needed to buy a new kiln to fire. Intricate carvings marked the surface, the delicate use of tints and glazes giving the massive piece of art an otherworldly, Viking appearance. Running his hand through his shaggy auburn hair, Hiccup directed Snotlout and Fishlegs as they carefully placed it on the plinth in the main hall, under the spotlight that had been fitted specifically to illuminate the work. Astrid rolled her eyes and took the box of cookery items into the kitchen, running her hand along the granite work-top with a smile.

"It's a beautiful house," Heather said, placing her box by the oven. Astrid gave a smirk.

"I know," she said lightly, her eyes sparkling. "And it's ours! Hiccup's apartment and mine-between them, there was enough to buy this outright." Heather looked round approvingly, her raven hair in a loose ponytail.

"I could never afford a place in this neighbourhood," she sighed and Astrid turned to her, grasping her shoulders gently.

"Heather-you know how well we are doing," she said. "The main transaction account has a massive surplus so I've transferred it to the prime business holding account on the advice of Stoick Haddock to keep the Financial Regulator happy that we're safeguarding our investors. And at the end of the financial year, we'll both be on for handsome bonuses…and I know exactly what to do with mine…" Her eyes swept round the kitchen and the adjoining living area. Heather batted her shoulder.

"You need to get to the end of the year before you spend our dividends, Ast!" she smirked. "Honestly-before you met Hiccup, all you dreamed about was increasing our profitability and your financial clout, about networking and clients and accounts. And now, you're spending profits we don't have on a house you haven't even finished moving into!"

"And it almost didn't happen," Astrid sighed, checking the boxes were where she wanted them and turning back to the door. "I almost blew my chance with him."

oOo

_One Year Earlier…_

Filled with righteous anger, Astrid had been steaming all the way back to her apartment in a neat, modern block in the centre of the city, slamming the door, throwing her shoes into the closet and slipping out of the dress, throwing it onto the bed.

"Argh! The nerve of that man!" she growled to herself, unbraiding her hair and running her fingers through it to loosen the golden locks. She desperately needed a shower, to wash away the stale makeup and freshen herself up. "I mean, what kind of bastard takes advantage of a drunken woman?" She sighed and headed into the shower, flipping on the water and closing her eyes, allowing the water to soak her head and caress her tired body, to remove the smell and memory of whoever that man had been.

She scrubbed her face fiercely. Of course, she clearly had gone willingly, because she knew Heather wouldn't allow her to be abducted from the party…but hadn't the man realised she was so wasted she was incapable to consenting, of knowing what she was doing? She scrubbed her face harder. And whose fault had that been? If she believed in equality, then the blame was hers as well. She should have drunk responsibly-and especially on an empty stomach. She soaped her hair angrily.

_He had still taken advantage-and Astrid Hofferson didn't forget that._

Switching off the water, she wrung her hair dry and stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself and walking back into the bedroom. Her room was neat and ordered, everything pristine and modern. Automatically, she collected up her discarded dress and hung it neatly then dumped the rest of her clothing in the washing basket. Calming her breathing, she dried herself and sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair through and carefully drying it. She stared at the reflection in the mirror: she was a confident, professional determined woman who didn't need anyone. Success didn't come to those who slept: you keep the pressure on, you forge ahead.

The reflection smiled back. Her parents had been so proud of her success and her father had been her greatest supporter, cheering as she first set up her business and when she had taken on Heather as her first appointment in that little office downtown with the damp patch in the corner of the office and and dodgy internet. Now, their offices were so white and modern you felt you had walked into the future-but her parents hadn't seen it. The car crash that had taken them had left Astrid alone and that was how she liked it. No one to care for, no one to distract her by loving her or caring for her or dying and breaking her heart…

She reached for her cream and gently massaged it in, dusting on foundation and attending to her make-up with mindless precision. She went through the same routine every day: same braid over her left shoulder, same light make-up, same deep navy suit and white or pale blue blouse, same fine gold chain as her only ornamentation. She rose, snatched a piece of toast and checked her reflection: a successful business woman looked back aloofly at her. A success-and not at all lonely.

Of course, one of the perks of being the boss was that she didn't have to justify it if she came in late-but she caught Heather's smirk and saw the knowing look in her grey-green eyes. Astrid huffed, stowed her bag and jacket and then went to the coffee machine, sloshing black coffee into her mug and counting.

"four…five…six…seven…"

"So…Astrid…how was last night?" Astrid glanced up with a smile as Heather stood opposite her, smirking in her black suit skirt and white blouse. She sipped her coffee with a superior look.

"You're slipping," she told her friend. "I usually only get to five before you try to find out what happened." Her friend shot back the most smug look.

"Well, you were really struggling-and I admit, hands up, it was the worst and most boring party ever. No sign of Stoick Haddock at all…and you were hitting the champagne rather harder than sensible when that yummy stranger came up and suggested you eat something."

"Yummy stranger?" Astrid's blonde brow arched above a puzzled expression. Heather nodded enthusiastically.

"The handsome guy with the messy auburn hair and those dreamy green eyes…" Astrid bristled.

"You mean the creep who took advantage of me?" she demanded sharply. "I was wasted and that creep took me home and…and obviously he took advantage of me and…" Heather frowned and shook her head.

"I don't think so," she murmured. "I mean, you sat talking to him for over two hours and finally you insisted you went back to his place to see his sculptures…and he seemed like a really nice guy." She paused and stared worriedly at her friend. "Why-what happened?"

_What had happened?_

She recalled leaning forward, chatting to the young man with the sparkling emerald eyes and the gentle, teasing voice. She recalled hands moving as he talked, his arms and shoulders used for emphasis and a lopsided, gentle smile. She recalled him taking her through his studio and showing her his sculptures and how she had realised that the art in the exhibition had been his. She recalled flinging herself at him, arms all over his lanky shape and the blush of embarrassment warming his pale, faintly freckled cheeks. And the way he had very gently refused, citing her complete inebriation as a reason to not do anything she may regret. He had offered her a taxi home and the spare bedroom-which she had collapsed into…but she had sneaked into his room as soon as he was in bed, undressed and flung herself at him-and in the end, he had gently hugged her until she had passed out.

She frowned and covered her face.

"Astrid?"

"I punched him," she murmured in shame. "Gods, I was completely…drunk…and horny. _Very_ horny…I mean, he was hot and kind and-and lovely and he was a complete gentleman and I woke up and punched him."

Heather's cackle of laughter echoed through the office, causing three of the junior employees to look up. Astrid shushed her urgently.

"Oh Thor! Really?" Her friend was almost helpless. "Shame because he seemed really nice-and not an asshole..." Astrid face-palmed and sighed.

"Yeah, I think you're right," she sighed. In a second, her friend had grabbed her arms.

"Astrid-you are my best friend and Gods know, I love you," Heather said urgently, "but I have to tell you-you're a total idiot!" Astrid stared at her. "You were so happy last night, so open and relaxed and..."

"Very, very drunk," Astrid finished dryly.

"And maybe that allowed you to drop your guard and your facade of bring Miss Perfect Businesswoman!" Heather argued. "All I know is-you looked the happiest I've seen you since you lost your parents-and if you don't at least speak to this guy, then you will regret it for the rest of your life!" Astrid sighed.

"If he'll even open the door," she mumbled. Heather turned and headed back to her desk.

"You snooze, you lose," she reminded the blonde. "What have you got to lose?"

So she had found herself where she started that evening after work, walking through the converted warehouse building to the third floor apartment, seeing the door number that was, on closer inspection, a unique pottery plaque in the shape of a black dragon with the number '7' carefully painted on. She stared at the door for a full five minutes before she hit the bell.

There was a long pause and just as she was about to give up, the door opened. She swallowed-and looked into the same emerald eyes from this morning-though now they were wary, not welcoming. He took a couple of breaths and stared at her.

"Um...yeah?" he asked her. She stared into his face and fragments of memory floated back: a lopsided smile, the way those eyes darkened slightly as he leaned close… She sighed.

"I-I think I owe you an apology," she said brusquely, almost wincing at her own sharp tone. His brows furrowed ever so slightly.

"You think?" he retorted, the tone edged with sarcasm. He was half-hiding behind the door but she could see he was wearing a very scruffy green tee-shirt, marked with what looked like mud, loose baggy jeans that were splattered with paint and he was barefoot. She took a small breath.

"I may have…over-reacted," she admitted. He tilted his head slightly, an eyebrow arching in a wry look. "C'mon-I woke up naked in a strange bed and have no memory of how I got there. And I find some guy who seems very chipper and I assumed…"

He frowned.

"I did the dishonourable thing?" he said heavily. "Figures. I meet someone who actually wants to look at my work and she's wasted out of her skull and then she flings herself at me and refuses to get in a taxi and so I put her in my spare bed and I think she's safely tucked in and the next thing I know, said drunken horny blonde is naked in my bed and is _really_ touchy and all I can do to stop her crawling all over me is hug her until she drops asleep and then she wakes up and punches me really hard!" His voice had become more animated as he launched into his protest, his arms waving wildly as he described his evening. Astrid stared at him and giggled. "And that is so not funny, Milady!" he told her shortly.

"Actually it's hilarious," she giggled.

"How-how is my getting punched funny?" he protested, eyes widening in utter confusion. She shook her head.

"No, I really am sorry about that," she sniggered, "but the way you're waving your hands around it so…"

"Hiccup?" he sighed. She frowned. "Because it's my name. Hiccup Haddock." She gaped.

"Haddock? As in Stoick Haddock?" she asked. He rolled his eyes and his shoulders slumped.

"Go ahead," he breathed. "This is where people either scoff that I am nothing like the financial giant or use me to try to get to him…"

"That art at the exhibition was yours?" she asked and he nodded.

"Um…I am a sculptor and potter," he admitted, his head still bowed. "Of course, my Dad doesn't approve because I am meant to take over the family business but that's not what I want to do. And I don't often get exhibited because no one has heard of me…so it was really a great opportunity for me yesterday…but I blew that as well talking to some gorgeous, giggly blonde who turned out to be a violent lunatic…"

"Show me the art," she demanded firmly. He stared at her, then gestured to his scruffy attire.

"Um..actually I was working…" he said. Confidently, she walked through the door and stared determinedly into his eyes.

"Show me," she asked him more gently and he swallowed, then closed the door.

"This way," he murmured and gestured towards a brightly lit area, pieces displayed, pots and ceramics stacked on shelves, bins of clay, containers of slip and tools strewn and a wheel casually taking pride of place. A central area on a large plastic sheet had a heavy jagged structure half-built with folded slabs of clay still lying by the creation. Astrid walked past and peered at one of the completed pieces, a heavy stylised statue in deep earth tones, covered in impressed and vividly painted dragons. She gasped and trailed her fingertips over the smooth, glazed surface.

"This is…amazing…" she murmured, her eyes wide. She walked to the next, a fluid shape suggesting a woman dancing, blonde hair gleaming gold with the glaze. Then she turned to the work in progress. "And this one?" she murmured. He shrugged.

"I'm…struggling…" he sighed. "It's meant to represent the tension between the modern urban Berk and the simpler naturalistic past…" She walked around it, the echoes of her heels surrounding them. She ended at his side and rested her chin in a hand.

"So that jagged bit is the city and the smoother, more curved portion is nature?" she asked and his head snapped round, inspecting her more closely.

"You said that last night," he gasped. She smiled.

"You know…I think we got off on the wrong foot," she murmured. "Well, to be honest, I have no recollection of which foot we got off on at all! And I would really like to get to know you properly, when I'm not utterly wasted." She turned to face him and offered her hand. "Astrid Hofferson." His warm hand closed around hers, the calluses from his craft unfamiliar on her skin.

"Hiccup Haddock," he said gently, then lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. "Pleasure to meet you, Milady!" She blushed and blinked: Astrid Hofferson never blushed!

"Cut that out, sculptor boy!" she told him, her eyes twinkling-and the lopsided smile she had half-recalled warmed his face and sent a little flutter through her chest.

"I think I owe you a coffee," he told her warmly. "Of course, Toothless ate your pancakes…"

"Toothless?" she frowned. He gestured back to the main part of the apartment and the kitchen area. A large black dog was curled in his bed, a brilliant green eyes cracking open for a second then closing again. A tail thumped the floor a couple of times in approval.

"Yeah, my supposedly loyal dog. Man's best friend. Thanks, bud-great job protecting me from the woman who punched me this morning!" She gave a laugh.

"He knows I don't mean you any harm, Hiccup," she told him as she settled at the table. He put the kettle on the stove and grinned.

"Yeah, it really felt like that," he replied, putting on a wounded voice.

"Aww…big baby boo!" she teased him. "Being hit by a widdle girlie too much for you?"

"Odin, yes!" he said with feeling. "I thought Thor himself had punched me!" She threw her head back and laughed and he joined her. His laugh was pleasant and open and the sound warmed her chest. He grinned again-then turned to the counter. "Um…I don't actually know how you like your coffee, Milady so…?"

"Straight up-black, no sugar or sweetener," she said automatically. He nodded, sloshing hot water in and adding cream and sugar to his own cup. Easily, he walked and sat in the seat next to her, placing her mug gently in front of her.

"So….hot shot businesswoman?" he said thoughtfully. "Someone who went to the party hoping to see Stoick Haddock and ended up sitting with his son instead…I'm afraid I'm not much of a substitute. I'm not in the family business and never will be, no matter what my father wishes. I'm an artist. I create with my hands. I can't make cold decisions with money, to lend here, refuse there, foreclose on this person and bankrupt that one! That's not who I am." His face was open and he gave a shrug, something his lean and lanky shape was well suited for.

"Finance isn't just lending and repossessions," she told him. "You can help others invest and create, to support and build dreams, to give people hope, a chance, a future." Her eyes sparkled and he smiled at her passionate words.

"And when you're not helping people build dreams?" he asked her gently, his eyes fixated on her face. She felt her cheeks warm.

"I…um…don't have much time for anything outside work," she admitted. "It's my business and I have everything invested in it. So it's up to me if it stands or falls."

"All work and no play makes Astrid a dull girl," he teased her gently. She sipped her coffee.

"So I'm _dull_ , sculptor boy?" she asked him and his eyes widened.

"Um…I didn't actually say that!" he protested urgently. She leaned forward and gently punched him in the shoulder. "Toothless! You saw that, bud! Why aren't you protecting me from this ferocious madwoman?" he yelped.

"And I thought that last night might suggest I know how to party," she purred, leaning close to him. He grinned and leaned closer.

"Do you always punch your dates the next morning?" he asked her playfully.

"Only the special ones," she murmured. Her eyes locked on his and she suddenly felt she was drowning in the emerald depths. "And I think you may be very special…" He smiled, leaning closer.

"That's a relief," he murmured. "Because otherwise, this could be very embarrassing." And he leaned in and kissed her. It was only meant to be a brief, playful kiss but she instantly returned the kiss, leaning hard and digging her hands into his soft, tousled hair, holding him close as the kiss deepened. HIs warm hands gently slid over her shoulders, cupping her cheeks as they finally pulled apart. Breathing hard, they stared into each other's eyes.

"I think maybe we should go on a date," Astrid said breathlessly. Hiccup rested his forehead against hers, a smile lighting his face.

"Anything you say, Milady-as long as we can do that again," he sighed and kissed her once more.


	2. Two

**Two.**

Their relationship had never looked back from that initial misunderstanding-because in Hiccup, Astrid found what she had been missing. He was easy-going, caring, kind and reasonable, the antithesis of her aggressive, single-minded, non-stop, ambitious personality. They were both stubborn-which added occasional friction-but the fact that they had an instant connection meant they were willing to settle any disagreements reasonably-and without Hiccup getting punched again.

Of course, Astrid being the organised workaholic she was, the relationship did start slowly because she was scared to commit and more scared that she would lower her barriers and allow herself to care…just to have the person she cared for leave her. So Hiccup did much of the heavy lifting in the first few dates, asking her out, organising the venues and ensuring she did actually turn up. But it was on their fourth date that she knew she was falling for him when she agreed to stay-sober, this time-and spent the night in his apartment, watching some old comedy show and snuggling. She found herself able to talk to him as no one else, sharing her desolation when she lost her parents and finding herself alone. For a brief moment, she had questioned the point of her efforts before she had immured herself against everything except her work…until she had met Hiccup. And though he respected her work ethic-because he knew that her work was everything-he began to make sure that she had time away from work, much to the approval of Heather. Astrid began to have fun and become happy and exuberant young woman Heather had first met.

But a major audit interrupted her budding romance and everything came screeching to a halt as she and her team worked tirelessly to ensure every aspect of financial governance was pristine for the auditors' inspection. After four days of missed calls and ignored texts, Hiccup had taken matters into his own hands and he had turned up at the offices of Hofferson Investments. Astrid and Heather had been huddled in her office, triple checking client records and account records when the blonde looked up-to see a familiar messy auburn mop traversing the office outside, nodding to the weary staff who were still working despite it being almost eight o'clock in the evening. Smiling and nodding, he had walked to the office and let himself in through the glass door marked with the discreet nameplate: **ASTRID HOFFERSON CEO.**

"Hi," he said with a grin. "My name's Hiccup and I was looking for my girlfriend. I think she was kidnapped by some dreadful l monster named Audit…so I came to rescue her."

"Heather-meet my hilarious boyfriend, Hiccup Haddock," Astrid said tiredly. Green eyes widened and the raven-haired girl started.

"As in 'Chief' Stoick Haddock?" she asked, sitting up and eyeing the tall young man.

"Absolutely no relation," Hiccup deadpanned.

"Father," Astrid cut in, looking up into his concerned face. "What're you doing here, babe? Kinda busy…"

"Apart from the fact you've missed three dates and have cut me off without so much as a text telling me to leave you alone forever, I was worried because I guessed-correctly, as it turns out-that you aren't looking after yourself," he told her, opening his rucksack and laying a casserole dish on the desk, followed by plates, a loaf of bread, cutlery, glasses, a bottle of wine and napkins. "So I brought the date to you."

She stared at him in utter shock.

"I-I don't have time," she protested, her stomach growling in defiance of her determination. "Hiccup-the audit is in two days…"

"…and you are already ready, aren't you?" he asked her directly, his emerald eyes reading her face. "You're going over things for the third time-possibly fourth-and doing it at this time, when you're exhausted, will mean you will miss that crucial error instead of picking it up! So you need a break." He lifted the lid off the casserole. "Honeyed pulled pork, apples, potatoes…crusty bread." Heather stared at him and then at the blonde…before closing her book and rising.

"You know, that's the most sense I've heard over the last four hours," she said tiredly. "I'm bushed. See you in the morning." And she left without another word as Hiccup smirked at her.

"You're a terrible influence on me," she protested but he leaned forward and kissed her like a starving man, hands threading her hair until he had to pull back for air.

"And you on me," he murmured. "I know about obsession, Milady-sometimes, when I really get inspiration, I lose all track of time. And I am really hoping if I get as bad as you are now, you will come rescue me?" She rose out of her chair and kissed him again, then served herself a portion.

"You can rely on me, babe," she murmured and took a mouthful, humming in delight. "Thor, that is perfect."

"That's the only flaw in my otherwise-perfect plan," Hiccup noted, serving himself and sitting opposite her. "If I expect food from you, it's be dry bread and water-and even that will be inedible!" She launched a potato at him and he just ducked, then yelped as a carrot hit him in the face. "Oww. Oh-it is so on…" he grinned and lobbed some pork at her, the juices splatting her cheek. She grinned, wiping them off and sucking her finger.

"Mmm. Good. But you're gonna pay for that," she promised him, chewing another mouthful and he smiled.

"Come home with me, Astrid," he murmured. "Let me take care of you. You can come back in the morning when you are refreshed and effective once more." She finished her plate and rose, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him languidly.

"I am never letting you go," she murmured.

oOo

As she had promised, when he dropped out of touch only a month later, she had used her key to his apartment and found him as she had expected: dishevelled, thin and unkempt, obsessing over a magnificent huge sculpture that he was building. The massive piece was intricate, stunning and almost complete when she had walked in, dropping her bag and running to his side.

"Hiccup," she sighed and he had looked up, distracted and distant…until he registered who was there. He scrambled to his feet and walked urgently to her, taking her hands.

"How long has it been?" he murmured, looking around and seeing the almost-finished piece on the plastic and wooden platform, the dried slip and clay strewn on the floor and his tools. The neat, professional shape of Astrid was completely out of place in the chaos but she rested a hand against his cheek, feeling his nascent beard scratchy under her palm.

"Four days, babe," she told him gently, seeing his brow furrow. "Wow, you really do lose yourself sometimes." He gave a self-conscious nod, the lifted his T-shirt and gave a tentative sniff. He groaned.

"Thor, no wonder I've never had a real girlfriend," he murmured.

"Until now," she smirked, rising onto her tiptoes and kissing him gently. "Now come on, Hiccup. You need a shower, something to eat and a rest." She frowned. "And a shave." He shook his head with a smile.

"You don't like my new 'poor artist' look?" he checked, eyes twinkling.

"Not happening," she told him briskly, leading him to the bedroom. "Get cleaned up, babe. I'll fix food."

"So after all my hard work, I'm about to get poisoned?" he checked, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. Toothless looked up, seeing his master finally back and leapt up, barking excitedly. "Hey, bud…yeah, I'm back. Did Mrs Ramirez take you out for walks?" He met Astrid's confused and mildly accusatory look as Toothless whined and licked him excitedly. "Sometimes when I'm busy, I ask the neighbour to take Toothless out for walks and make sure he's fed. Otherwise, he would have eaten my sculpture…"

"Got a girlfriend now to do Toothless-caring duties! Now-get in the shower, sculptor boy!" she ordered him and reached for the phone.

By the time he emerged, damp, clean and shaved, pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter and Astrid had poured two beers, sipping one herself as she watched him smile wearily and perch on a stool next to her. He arched an eyebrow, sipping his beer.

"Pizza?" he asked with a tired smile.

"Didn't want to poison you," she explained, flipping the lid and taking a slice. He peered cynically at the pizza.

"And yet you get Hawaiian. Who has pineapple on pizza?" he asked, exploring the second pizza and finding-as expected-a 'Super Meatfeast Plus'. He snared a piece and bit into the warm pizza, sighing in relief. "Much better…"

"You and your meat," she grinned, licking her fingers, looking coyly from under her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, Milady-you know all this raw sculptor is first and foremost a Viking," he smirked. Licking her fingers seductively, she darted forward and stole a slice of his pizza. "Hey! Don't leave me with the fruit pizza!" he protested. She laughed, her nose wrinkling as she chewed her stolen pizza.

"I could give it to Toothless," she suggested.

"Even he's not so desperate that he'd eat it!" Hiccup said gruffly but leaned in when she kissed him and relaxed with a groan. "Bed, Milady?" She nuzzled against him.

"Got work in the morning," she murmured but he kissed her forehead.

"Maybe you could leave some clothes over here…just in case?" he suggested and then stilled as she lifted her eyes, looking at him calculatingly.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" she asked him directly and he smiled at her gently.

"If you think I'm suggesting you stay here more regularly with me because I'm crazy about you, then you're on the money," he teased her.

"I'm always on the money," she smirked. "Hoshot financier, remember?" He kissed her and tasted pineapple.

"Don't I know it," he smiled, leaning close. "My Dad would love you…as the daughter he never had." Her face fell as it always did when she recalled the loss of her parents and his warm fingers gently lifted her chin. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I always mess it up. I didn't mean to remind you…but you should know…and not because I'm trying to get you into bed because I am _really_ tired…that I love you and will always be there for you." She forced a smile onto her face and kissed him gently.

"Okay," she said decidedly. "Bed."

She ended up in one of his T-shirts which was big enough and as he curled against her-because he really was far too exhausted to do anything else-he snuggled his head against her shoulder.

"I love you," he murmured sleepily and then his eyes snapped open, all drowsiness chased away by the sudden realisation he had betrayed his innermost feelings. His head snapped up and he stared into her face, stricken. "Oh Thor…did I say that aloud?" She nodded, biting her lip, eyes searching his face. "Oh Thor…I mean Astrid…I-I'm sorry…I didn't mean to say it…no, that's not right because I _did_ mean it…" His emerald gaze stared into her azure depths and she saw his anxiety. He sat up and took her hands, his weary face suddenly very serious. "Astrid, I know we haven't been going out that long and I know I am probably going to scare you off and you may well not feel the same way about me as I feel about you…" He paused and he looked resigned, making her heart clench. "But whether I say it today or wait for another hundred years, my feelings won't change. You're smart and beautiful and decisive and kind and…and I could never wish for a better person in my life…."

"A hundred years may be waiting _too_ long, babe," she commented wryly, seeing him blush, but his grip tightened slightly on his hands.

"Very serious, Milady," he said softly. "I had this all planned, a perfect place-you know that fountain in the park where Toothless tripped us up and we ended up in each others' arms?" She nodded. "Well…there…but anyway, I want you to know that no matter what, you to me are perfect. And I-I love you."

There was a moment of silence as she watched him sag, fearing she didn't reciprocate his ardently declared feelings. Did she mind? Hiccup was a kind, generous, caring man and every minute with him was like an oasis in her busy life. Did she love him? The fluttering in her chest whenever they kissed and the way she missed him the moment they were apart was answer enough, even after so short a time. She kissed his cheek.

"Ditto," she replied. He kissed her back, his face radiant.

"Good enough," he sighed and snuggled down to sleep once more.

oOo

"So is Hiccup taking you home for Snoggletog?" Heather asked as they sat in the office, two days before the annual winter holiday. Astrid shrugged, double checking the accounts for the end of month figures.

"Hmm? Oh, I guess," she said dismissively, eyes fixed on the screen. Her brow furrowed, eyes flicking down the list of figures once more. "Have you put all the transactions through for the last week, Heather? We're twelve thousand short." The raven-haired girl nodded quickly.

"I'll check the others have finished inputting," she promised. "Sometimes Will and Erika are a little slow…and everyone is super-excited about the holidays. You gave them all a generous bonus! And will you be seeing the great man?" Azure eyes flicked up and Astrid rolled her eyes.

"You mean Stoick?" she checked. "I guess over the holiday. Hiccup is taking us round to his house…" Heather gaped at her.

"Wait-you mean you haven't been there yet? You've been dating nearly five months!" she exclaimed. "Honestly, Ast-do you think he's ashamed of you?"

There was a pause and the blonde scowled, scrolling down the accounts and then logging off.

"No," she said quietly. "I think he's ashamed of himself. He's an artist, not a financier or a investment banker, as his father wanted him to be. I-I think he's worried his father may like me more than him." Green eyes wide, Heather stared.

"But-he's his son…" she said. Astrid sighed and tidied her desk, obsessively making sure her workstation was precisely ordered before she left for the holidays.

"I know," she sighed, "and I sometimes wonder what I'm getting myself in for but I guess, from what Hiccup says, that it's more Hiccup's feeling that he has let his father down than anything on his father's side. From what I can gather, his father loves him." She smiled. "You off to your Godmother's in Berserk?"

"Don't I always?" she said in a resigned voice. "I may see my brother-or not, depending on what he's up to and who he's running with." Astrid quietly hiked up an eyebrow. "He tends to hang with some people…who think laws are optional?" Astrid sighed and walked round, then hugged her friend.

"If you ever need to talk-or anything else-just ask," she assured her friend. "I'm always here for you, Heather. I know it's been tough but maybe he'll get the Snoggletog spirit as well this year."

"Maybe," Heather said as Astrid turned to lift her purse. "Hey-Ast! You forgot your diary!" Spinning on her heel, the blonde instantly grabbed the little book with a grin and tucked it firmly in her bag.

"Thanks, Heather," she smiled. "Not sure what I would do without it. It has all the access codes to the accounts." The raven haired girl nodded and then turned back.

"I need to pay the annual rental for the offices," she said. "Can I sort that to allow you to go get ready for your lover-boy?" Astrid shook her head.

"You're only authorised for the Business Current Account," she said calmly. "It only holds ten-k. I'll make the transfer from the Prime Business Holding Account." She met her friend's eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you, Heather, but the Financial Regulators made it clear that our insurance would treble if I added you as an authorised signatory for all our and our client's monies." She smiled. "I'll pay it before I got out!" Heather smiled.

"Happy Snoggletog!" she said and handed Astrid a small wrapped gift-just as the blonde produced her own present for her friend.

"Ditto," Astrid grinned. "See you next year, Heather. I have a feeling it's gonna be even better than this one!"

oOo

Hiccup was almost twitching with anxiety-the most tense Astrid had ever seen her generally relaxed and easy-going boyfriend-as their taxi pulled up outside the magnificent house that was Stoick Haddock's home. There was clearly some tension between the two men, though it was just as clear to Astrid that he loved his father dearly. But he was looking solemn as they climbed out, got their bags and made sure Toothless was seated by them as Hiccup rang the bell.

There was an awkward pause and Hiccup shuffled his feet. He was dressed more smartly in skinny jeans, long sleeved T-shirt and green sweater and boots, his long winter coat swathing his lean shape. Astrid's cheeks were pink with the cold, her eyes sparkling as she stood in her long winter coat, baby blue hat and mittens, smiling as the door opened.

The man facing them was almost tall as Hiccup but very solid and round in the middle, his blue eyes sparkling and head bald, though he had an outrageously ostentatious long braided blonde moustache. He was dressed in dark pants, shirt and waistcoat combination though he was unusual with a fake left hand and he had a pronounced limp. Astrid frowned but Hiccup grinned.

"Hey, Gobber!" he said cheerfully and walked forward to hug the man.

"Laddie! He's been wearin' a hole in the carpet waitin' for yer," the man said, hugging him back before he turned his curious gaze to the blonde standing silently by. "And this is…?"

"Gobber-this is Astrid Hofferson," Hiccup said, standing back and grinning. "Astrid-this is Gobber, my Dad's oldest friend and assistant…" Astrid offered her hand to Gobber, smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said with a grin as Gobber beckoned her in and closed the door, relieving them of their coats and gloves. "He's in the sitting room, lad." Hiccup nodded and reached out for Astrid's hand, smiling though she could feel the tension in his grip. But when they walked along the polished hardwood floor to the wide sitting room, she saw the huge shape of 'Chief' Stoick Haddock waiting for them. The financial giant was a huge man, close to seven feet tall and broad, his flaming hair grizzling and huge flaming beard familiar from a hundred interviews across all media. What Astrid hadn't expected were the twinkling eyes, the smile-or the Rudolph sweater.

"SON!" Stoick started forward to be met by his son, surging forward to hug him fiercely, before Hiccup gave a groan.

"Dad…need air…" he protested with a grin and then pulled back as the big man turned to the beautiful blonde who was smiling gently at the Haddock men. Hiccup glanced at her and his emerald eyes twinkled as he looked at her. "Dad-this is Astrid…" She offered her hand, feeling unaccountably nervous at meeting the famous Financier before she felt his huge hand close around hers.

"A pleasure to meet you, Astrid," he said, in his broad Scottish brogue. She nodded and smiled back.

"The pleasure is mine, sir," she replied.

"Call me Stoick," he said. "Because it's my name." She smiled at the echo of his son's words, some of her nerves melting away.

"You son has told me a lot about you," she continued, still smiling as Hiccup took her hand, his fingers lacing with hers. "And I'm pretty nervous, to be honest." His eyes inspected her carefully.

"I know about you, Astrid Hofferson," he admitted calmly. "I make it my business to ensure that I know everything about people who associate with my son…because he has been lied to and used before…"

"Way to make me sound needy, Dad," Hiccup grumbled lightly. "There have been a couple of girls who tried to hook up because they hoped to get to you through me…" He paused. "And even one guy tried as well-that was interesting…" He shuddered. "Don't worry, Astrid-I don't swing that way…" Then he shrugged. "But to be honest, I was such a disappointment, none of the girls could last even a few weeks of me before they had to bail…" Astrid stared boldly into the cool grey-green eyes and her hand found his once more.

"Babe-no chance of getting rid of me that easily," she told him firmly. "I came back for you, remember? And you came for me. I am, in fact, rather fond of you."

"Fond?" he asked her teasingly.

"Accustomed?"

"Really?" he continued with a smirk. "Nothing more?"

"Habituated?" she replied, staring up into his emerald eyes.

"Oh, that's a relief," he said. "I was worried I was in love with you and you didn't reciprocate." She beckoned him down and kissed him firmly, arms wound affectionately round his neck.

"Oh, I reciprocate," she told him. "Very, very definitely."

Dinner was held in a magnificent dark green Dining Room where they ate a full traditional yak roast dinner with Gobber, who was batshit crazy but very exuberant and good fun. Stoick's eyes watched the blonde interacting with his son and while he was concerned-because his son was very precious to him-he could see that the blonde was genuinely fond of the young man, the intimacy of their interactions and unspoken shorthand telling him that his son may well have found his soulmate. Stoick and Gobber regaled Astrid with stories of Hiccup's childhood, of how he had been much smaller than the other kids and bullied by his cousin-until the boys had sorted it out between them; of how he excelled at school and who Stoick had hoped he would follow him into the financial sector…but how Hiccup's late mother, Valka, had introduced him to pottery and how the young man had fallen in love with the creative process rather than the pursuit of wealth.

Astrid had smiled, stealing a glance at her dorky boyfriend and understanding how he came to that decision. He was a very different person to her and chaining him to a desk and an accounts ledger would crush something precious in his artistic soul. But when Hiccup and Gobber had collected the plates-which Astrid recognised as Hiccup's work-and went to collect the plum pudding, the financier sat back, rolling the glass of mead in his large hands.

"I can see you care for my son, Astrid," he said thoughtfully. "And I like you. You're smart, determined, streetwise. I think you will protect my son."

"Does he need it?" Astrid asked, watching him closely and trying to divine what the financier was trying to ask. At least he wasn't threatening her or telling her to leave Hiccup alone. Stoick's cool grey-green eyes inspected her face.

"You and I are the same, Astrid," Stoick said thoughtfully, his voice soft. "We are realists. We can see the ambiguities of life. We are suspicious. We are cautious. We expected deception and dishonesty." He paused. "My son, however, is a good man. A good person. And as a good person, he sees the good in others. Don't get me wrong: he isn't stupid. But he is…decent. And he will give others a chance where we…wouldn't."

"I would never…" Ever ever _ever_ hurt him.

"I know, lass," Stoick said gently, a smile lifting his face. "But I won't live forever and I will rest easier if I know you are there, watching over my boy." Astrid smiled as Hiccup walked back in, tilting her head up to lock her eyes with his. He carefully placed the plum pudding on the table then leaned forward to kiss her, her arm winding up round his neck to hold him in place for a long, sensual moment before she released him with a satisfied grin.

"Oh, I can promise that I will," she said calmly.

"You've got a good one there, son," Stoick complimented him, his grin approving. "You can keep her." Astrid's blonde eyebrows raised at the choice of words and bit her lip against her instinctive response because Hiccup sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her stuffed middle, feeling her lean against his warm, relaxed shape.

"Gee, thanks, Dad," he drawled ironically. "So glad you approve of my girlfriend…"

"And Astrid, lass-you can call on me if you have any problems," he promised. Her eyes widened in shock-not that she needed his backing though having an experienced and wise mentor and sounding board would be helpful-more than she had ever hoped when she attended that dull function on her birthday. But now, all that mattered was Hiccup, the goofy sculptor, not the famous father. She nodded.

"Thanks," she said quietly and sighed. "I almost feel embarrassed but may I ask a question?" She read Stoick's suspicious look but she shook her head. "It's nothing detailed, merely an opinion." He nodded. "Before the holidays, I noticed a shortfall in the accounts. It wasn't large-twelve thousand-but we have never been a cent out before. I was hoping that it was just a delay in inputting but my team all swore they had completed their inputs before we closed for the break." She paused and took a slow breath as she considered her next words. "I hand-picked my team and I trust them…but I worry than someone has embezzled the money. Someone has betrayed me."

"So what do you want to do?" Stoick asked thoughtfully.

"Nothing until after the holidays," Astrid said quietly. "I told my deputy, Heather to make enquiries-and I did the same myself. I am hoping that will spook the person enough to get them to return the money and solve the problem."

"And if that doesn't happen?" the financier asked her.

_I was really hoping you wouldn't say that and tell me the answer._

"Then I would investigate, find the person responsible and call the cops," she said tonelessly. Stoick met her eyes and nodded approvingly. "Am I doing the right thing, giving them time or should I have acted already?" Stoick paused and stared at his mead.

"A ruthless man would have terminated the person for one transgression, whether deliberate or an innocent error," he said. "My son would give the person a chance. I believe a good person would give the embezzler a chance-and would hopefully never have cause to regret." The man drained his glass with a small smile and she realised she had passed whatever test she had been undertaking. "I would rather my son loved a good person than a ruthless one." A weight lifted from her chest and she pulled her boyfriend close.

"Ditto," she smiled and kissed Hiccup.


	3. Three

**Three:**

"Okay, sculptor boy-this can't be as hard as you say," Astrid said, sitting confidently in front of his potter's wheel in his apartment. They were due to move in to their house together at the end of the week and half of his things were already packed but he had finally persuaded Astrid that this would be the perfect time to see just how challenging his profession was. The studio looked bare without his tools and finished pieces-which were already packed safely away.

"Oh really?" he smirked, settling behind her so she was almost sitting in his lap. His warm body was pressed against her back, long arms snaking round her, making her feel enclosed and safe. He had insisted she wore an old T-shirt of his that tended to slide off her shoulder and her oldest pair of jeans-though even those were still newer and better than his best pair. "Okay-normally, you have to practice moulding clay long before you ever get near the wheel so you get used to the feel of the clay, how wet or not it should be to respond in a particular way…"

"I've watched you so many times," she reminded him and he chuckled into her ear.

"I'll quit now, should I?" he teased her. "Because of course that watching you've done for a few months, that's far more effective than years of tuition and practice…"

"You are getting very sassy," she warned him, rolling her shoulders and facing the lump of clay already waiting for her on the wheel. "I am a Hofferson. I don't fear anything-especially not a dumb lump of clay!" His hands slid over hers as he gently led her to touch the clay.

"Just feel it," he said huskily, his voice sending chills down her spine.

"Eurgh…" she murmured.

"Pottery is messy, as is any act of creation," he warned her. "You put your heart and soul into it and you get the result you deserve. Keep the clay moist but not too wet and be gentle but firm enough."

She smiled, her heart swelling with love for him. He was smart and kind and patient but he was incredibly passionate about his art and he had wanted her to at least visit his world…though being Astrid, she had insisted on the complexity of the wheel rather than starting with something easy. But he was warm against her, almost able to feel his heart beating through the thin T-shirt he was wearing as his chest pressed against her back. His soft auburn hair brushed her cheek lightly and his breaths were on her skin as his strong, dexterous and delicate hands moved her fingers into the clay as the wheel began to turn.

"Easy," he whispered. "Think of it as a lover, to be gently coaxed and moulded rather than pounded into submission…"

"Hmm…are we thinking about the same thing?" she murmured lightly as the shapeless lump was nudged into a circular shape and then he guided her to begin to gently create the well that would become the inside of the pot. He splashed water on and her hands slipped, digging into the mass and mis-shaping it, but he moved her hands instinctively to recreate what had been lost, the well almost kissing the wheel as the thick sides began to become attenuated and taller.

"This is the most tricky part," he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek. Her heart fluttered with desire and she leaned back against him, her damp, clay smeared hands gliding over the slick medium as the pot grew and narrowed. She tilted her head and kissed him, his head turning to meet hers and lips connecting. His head dipped and featherlight kisses peppered her cheeks and neck as she arched backwards, his hands sliding up her arms and over to encircle her heaving middle. Her fingers dug into the clay, tearing the fragile shape apart as she turned, clay-covered hands rising to dig into his tousled hair, mouth crashing into his and pouring all her desire and emotion into the contact. His hands, which had gently massaged her sides, cupped her cheeks, smearing them with the grey-white residue as they lost themselves in each other, the clay splattering from the wrecked would-be pot before the wheel slowed and halted.

"Never said…was so messy…" Astrid mumbled against his neck, drying clay all over her cheeks. He wiped a smear across her chin and grinned, his hair damp and clumped with clay.

"Nothing worthwhile isn't worth getting messy for," he smirked, his lips capturing hers again.

"I think…the wheel…may be a bit…mmm…advanced," she managed between kisses. "I think…maybe…stick to moulding…" His eyes fluttered open and he stared into her sapphire depths, two fingers tenderly stroking her flawless skin.

"I can think of something a little less…complex," he offered as she leaned in to kiss him again, cold hands sliding under his T-shirt and across his scorching skin, causing him to shudder and the blood to pound far more insistently in Astrid's core.

"Show me," she murmured as they kissed once more.

oOo

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Hiccup grumbled half-heartedly, adjusting his tuxedo and allowing Astrid to straighten his bow tie.

"You took me into your world, sculptor-boy…now it's my turn to have you in mine," she marked, looking stunning in a pale cream satin cocktail dress, the perfect amount of diamanté edging her low-cut neckline and swirling down her left hip to encircle the hem. Silver killer heels complimented the dress and plain white diamond studs were in each ear. Her blonde mane was swept into an elegant coil on the crown of her head. Hiccup was in classic black tux and pants with a white dress shirt and black bow tie. His tousled auburn hair had been tamed somewhat but still looked casual and his emerald eyes were sparkling. He offered her his arm.

"I'm usually the entertainment or the poor artist exhibiting," he reminded her. "Not sure your hotshot friends will appreciate an intruder…" She leaned in and kissed him, then wiped the smear of pink lipstick off his cheek.

"They're gonna love you," she assured him.

"Because you do?" he checked with a smile.

"You know it," she grinned and checked her dress watch. "Thor-we'll be late. Is the cab here?"

"For the last five minutes." he assured her as they headed to the front door, past the spotlighted sculpture and leaving a disgruntled Toothless curled in his bed. "Sorry, bud-this isn't walkies…can you watch the house for us, okay?" Giving a small whine, the black mutt rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes as they grabbed Astrid's shawl and headed down the stairs. Autumn had arrived and the evenings were getting cooler but this was the gala dinner that the Berk finance community held each year and this year, she felt confident enough to ask Hiccup to attend-as she hadn't last year when their very new relationship had been only a few weeks old. His presence beside her was warm and comforting and though she knew Heather would be there as well, it was a rare pleasure to be accompanied by someone who could look out for and support her during the evening. His hand laced with hers as they swept through the traffic and up to the entrance of the 'Great Hall', Berk's most sumptuous banqueting venue.

"Miss Astrid Hofferson and Mister Hiccup Haddock," Astrid said as they emerged from the taxi, handing in their invitation to the doorman and accepting two flutes of champagne from the waiter before they headed into the dinner. Before them, waiters deftly swirled and dodged, weaving trays of champagne and other beverages and huge salvers of canapés through the packed room, efficiently attending to the guests' needs. Hiccup sipped his champagne and glanced across the room with a sigh: this was the world he hadn't wanted to enter-but, as he reminded himself, he was visiting on Astrid's behalf. Though he would be infinitely happier at home in his work clothes, throwing a pot on the wheel or working on another abstract piece that was starting to nag at the back of his mind. She leaned in and ghosted a touch on his arm as she headed off for a knot of men in tuxedos, the scent of testosterone metaphorically discernible on the air.

Astrid smiled, her eyes sparkling as she greeted the brokers from the larger brokerage houses across Berk City. Every time she attended one of these functions, she had to deal with non-stop flirting and she sincerely hoped that Hiccup's presence would cause them to back down-but she could see the unfriendly narrowing of the eyes at his presence, coldly appraising the lean, handsome artist and then dismissing him as no threat to their ambitions. Then they launched into a tirade of very loud and very macho tales of their exploits on the floor of the stock exchange and of widening margins and fattening bonuses. Astrid rolled her eyes.

"Get some new stories, guys," she said in exasperation, knowing they were trying to exclude her companion. Heather had come up and was grinning and lightly flirting at the guys-Cnut, Ragnar, Steve, Dag and Erik-and egging them on so she half-turned to find Hiccup's hand. "Sorry," she murmured. "Men…" Hiccup gave a strained smile.

"Yeah," he sighed, catching Heather's disapproving glance as the bell rang for the meal. But as they checked the table allocations, it was very obvious that though Astrid had been placed on one of the top tables with the movers and shakers, Hiccup had been allocated a seat on table 19, at the far side of the room.

Her fingers trailed on the list and her brows dipped, anger filling her chest. Hiccup hadn't asked to come but had agreed to accompany her because she had wanted someone by her side on the boring evening. If she wanted to network, the table was the time-but she couldn't have the meal without him. She blinked. She had worked so hard for her chance to finally be included in one of the top tables and for this to happen now…it wasn't fair…

His arms wrapped around her comfortingly. A gentle kiss brushed over her cheek and she relaxed back against him. "Go sit with the movers and shakers, Astrid. I know this is important for you. I'll survive." His smile was gentle and she turned to face him, her eyes shining with adoration.

"Are you sure?" she checked and he nodded.

"Go-make my Dad proud," he told her and smiled as she walked towards the front of the room…her steps growing slower and slower and then she stopped. It was wrong in so many ways…and the biggest one was that she didn't care if she networked or not without Hiccup. Once, she would have trampled over her own best friend to get a place on the top table but now, she had perspective and she understood what was important. Acquisition of money without the man she loved was nothing. So she spun on her heel, turning away from the coveted table and marching through the throng to table 19 and stopping by the tall, auburn-haired shape who was just taking his seat. There were spaces on the table because this really was the back of the queue…but she tapped his shoulder and his emerald eyes looked up into her smiling blue gaze.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked cheerfully. His mouth dropped open slightly.

"Astrid? Aren't you supposed to be rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful?" he asked her gently but she pulled the chair out and settled beside him, her hand finding his.

"I'm where I want to be," she said. "With my sculptor-boy."

"And my credibility finally curls up and dies," he replied with light sarcasm. "You should take the opportunity…"

"To be out with my Hiccup," she told him firmly and reached for the bottle in the centre of the table. "Hmm…Cabernet Sauvignon. That'll do…" He leaned closer as she expertly poured two glasses.

"Astrid? Are you sure?" he asked her softly and she smiled.

"Never more sure of anything," she grinned back. "Given a choice between them and you, I'll choose you every time…" He leaned in and kissed her.

"I love you," he breathed.

"Ditto. And don't you forget it!" she smirked. "Now let's just enjoy the time and…"

"ASTRID! Lass, what are you dong over here?" Hiccup winced at the booming tones of his father as Stoick marched over, his keen eyes having spotted her shape on a table she should not have been at. "I thought I had arranged for you to sit with me and…" She looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm very grateful, Stoick," she said honestly, "but you know I couldn't abandon Hiccup here without me. He was good enough to come to support me and I can hardly repay him by just leaving him alone…" Cool grey-green eyes swept over the young couple and his thick red brows dipped.

"They didn't…" he growled and then shook his head…before he pulled out the vacant chair on Astrid's other side and eased his bulk in. "I see you've opened the wine, Well done, Astrid," he said and helped himself.

"Um…Dad…aren't you supposed to be up on the top table?" Hiccup asked warily and the financier gave a broad grin, then emptied his glass of wine in one long gulp.

"I can sit where I damned well please," he admitted. "And why shouldn't I sit with my son and his beautiful and courageous girlfriend?"

"Um…you are the guest of honour and most of those guys want to see you?" Hiccup suggested.

"Too bad," Stoick said, grabbing his bread roll and smearing obscene amounts of butter on it. "If they wanted that, they shouldn't have disregarded my son and my future daughter-in-law…oops…" He clapped a hand to his mouth and stared at them with amused and not-at-all repentant eyes and both young people face-palmed.

"Dad," Hiccup groaned, shaking his head. "Astrid I am so sorry. I swear I never said anything of the sort to him. _Ever_. Even slightly. No hinting. Nothing. At all. Please don't punch me again, okay?" Smiling, though blushing with embarrassment, Astrid kissed her boyfriend's scorching scarlet cheek and sighed.

"A bit premature but I rule nothing out," she told him benignly and Hiccup stared suspiciously at her.

"I am going to pay for this later, aren't I?" he guessed. She beckoned him closer, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Babe-life will happen just as it is meant to," she told him gently. "Give it time." And then she smiled at him. "Do you think I want to be with anyone else?" He leaned close and kissed her deeply, his scent filling her nostrils.

"You are the only one for me," he breathed.

oOo

Waking up but still not wanting to open her eyes just yet, Astrid felt the spot beside her for Hiccup...only to find it devoid of him. Her hand trailed over the familiar dent, still slightly warm and she waited for a few moments in case he had just trotted to the bathroom. But finally she realised he wasn't coming back. Frowning and finally forcing her eyes open, she looked and found Hiccup's side of the bed vacated. She groaned: it was odd because Hiccup usually wasn't a morning person but something must have gotten him up so she got up and dressed herself before heading up to look for him.

Her eyes swept the large room he had converted into his studio as she reached the top step, she found Hiccup at his usual workplace, his back to her as he hunched forward. Smiling softly, she slowly approached him, intending to sneak up behind him and surprise him. But she realised that something was wrong when she got close enough to wrap her arms around him-for while he was sitting where he usually made his masterpieces, there was no clay on the wheel waiting for him to mould into shape. Instead, he simply sat there with his shoulders slumped. And if that wasn't enough, the fact that Toothless had his head on his owner's lap looking up at him worriedly was a dead giveaway. Without taking his head off Hiccup's lap, Toothless turned towards Astrid, the look he gave her almost pleading for her to help cheer his friend up.

"Hey, babe" she called out as she came beside him and knelt down to get to his level. "What's wrong?" He remained silent for a moment as if debating if he should reveal what was on his mind. Then, without looking at her, he finally spoke.

"Why haven't you said it yet?" he asked tonelessly, which only succeeded in confusing her.

"What?"

"At first, I thought maybe it was too soon. That you probably weren't ready yet. But we've been seeing each other for so long now and you have yet to say…"

"Hiccup," she interrupted him before he had a chance to ramble, "What are you talking about?" The young man finally turned as emeralds met sapphires.

"Astrid... do you love me?" The question caught her off guard and stole her breath but she quickly masked her confusion it and covered with a fake laugh.

"Of course I do! Why would you even ask that?" Maybe her tone was sharper than she had intended-but she didn't understand where this had come from. But though she freely admitted she wasn't the most empathetic person, she could read Hiccup well-and knew this was something that was consuming him. And she knew that Hiccup was not reassured by her too-fast response.

"Then why don't you ever say it?"

"What are you talking about? We say it to each other all the time."

Hiccup shook his head then said in an unfamiliar accusing tone, "No, you haven't. You always say 'Ditto' whenever I say it and that's not the same, Astrid."

The formal use of her name raised her hackles and she found herself rising and standing to her full height, She folded her arms around her slender body and turned away from him as Hiccup continued to look up at her, his expression unreadable. Sensing the tension, Toothless looked on from his owner to his mate with a small, uncomprehending whine. Finally, Astrid turned and looked back at him. Her tone was cool and mirrored what she had been told all through her life.

"Hiccup, they're just words. People say them all the time, it doesn't mean they actually mean anything." But the moment she said it, she realised it was the wrong thing to say as a broken expression crossed his handsome face before he turned his emerald gaze away, resuming his stare at the empty wheel.

"Maybe some people would like to hear them," he said quietly. "Maybe they actually mean something to some people." His tone was dejected. "Maybe I need to hear them." And she stared in shock at him as he got up and walked away; Toothless pacing behind him, his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Astrid stared after him, watching his lean shape rapidly vanish down the stairs to the rest of the house, leaving her alone in the empty room with the horrible feeling that she had broken something very precious.

oOo

"I really don't know why you have such problems saying it," Heather pointed out as they sat in the office later. "I mean, it's three little words. I. Love. You. It's not like you're being asked to recite Ancient Latin Poetry. Just say the words!" Astrid huffed and collapsed in her chair, massaging her temples.

_Why did she find it so hard?_ She knew it was the truth…but there was a nagging voice, scratching at the back of her mind, reminding her that admitting it would remove her last armour, the protection that she built up when her parents died and left her alone. Sure, she had Heather but Hiccup was different. He loved her deeply, his every emotion plain on his face and she knew he had no qualms in admitting his emotions. He had lost his Mom too, the painful and protracted end that breast cancer had given her still a painful subject. And she knew he loved her…but he was right. He deserved to hear them. _Was she afraid of speak them?_

But she was a Hofferson and she feared nothing! Except maybe the way that goofy smile made her legs feel slightly weak and those gentle, strong hands caressed her skin and melted her…

"I…"

Heather huffed at her, folding her arms. "You know, you used to be a complete go-getter," she reminded her friend pointedly. "But since you met Hiccup-and especially, since you moved in, you've lost your edge! Now, instead of focussing on the bottom line, you dream about time spent with him!" Astrid's temper flared.

"You wanted me to go to that stupid event last year!" she responded more sharply than she intended. "The aim was to meet Stoick Haddock-but instead I fell for his son. And I did fall for him and he is my everything, Heather. But as a result, I have gained Stoick as a mentor. I mean, by accident, I have got everything I ever wanted. He's proposed a joint fund between Haddock Corp and Hofferson Investments whereby we can co-fund projects and support more start-ups. He's also made some very good suggestions to tighten up our governance." Heather stared at her and Astrid sighed. "I guess I'm just feeling guilty that I ended up with what I wanted because I fell in love with Hiccup…even though I thought I had blown my chance…"

"You pretty much did!" Heather scolded her. "What were you thinking? You had a place at the top table at the Dinner and you…"

"Decided to spend the time with my boyfriend because the assholes split us up," she replied sharply. "What kind of person would leave the person they loved and came with to spend time with egotistical macho liars?"

"The kind who wanted the top investment firm in Berk?" Heather reminded her pointedly. "That was the dream, Astrid! The dream we shared!"

"Dreams change," Astrid retorted. "And my dream is with Hiccup, the man I love…"

"You know you have no problem telling me you love him," she pointed out with a shrug, turning to the door. "You need to tell him, Astrid. You need to decide if your dream is worth enough for you to say the words."

oOo

Back home, still thinking hard, she wandered up to join Hiccup in his third floor studio, finding him quietly moulding an almost perfect image of Toothless, who was dozing on the floor. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she watched him cautiously, not sure how he would react to her, before stepping in.

"Hey, babe," she murmured. "Mind if I join you?" He looked up, clay smeared in his cheek and his face lit with his smile.

"Milady-come to play with clay?" he asked brightly and she nodded, walking to his side and grabbing a handful and sitting beside him. She stared at it for a long second.

"Babe-are you okay?" she asked him, azure eyes almost worried at what he would say but he nuzzled against her, smiling.

"Astrid, I love you and that isn't going to change," he sighed, "but sometimes I just need to hear something back from you." Her fingers stroked the clay, squeezing here and there, thumbing the clay into bulges and teasing out limbs.

"I know," she murmured. "I…" His hand gently slid over hers.

"Astrid," he said softly, the sincerity in his words making her throat thicken with love, "I'm just glad to have you with me. That you choose to spend your time with me. So what are you making, Milady?" She smoothed the legs and tail and then stroked the head into shape.

"Don't laugh," she ordered him. He nodded.

"Promise," he murmured, seeing her cynical expression. "Cross my heart and hope to die…" She smirked at his hasty words, seeing his emerald eyes widen.

"Don't you dare," she warned him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. "Dragon." His eyes widened. "Yup. Was secretly a fan of that dragon show they had years ago on the cartoon channel…"

"Really? Me too," he grinned, his goofy smile warming her chest and chasing away all her doubts. "What are you making…" She picked a small stylus and gently began to pick out the details of the dragon, the spiny frill behind the head, the beak-like face, the wings…

"Deadly Nadder," she murmured and her lips lifted in a soft smile. "Stormfly." He sat back and watched her work, a proud smile on his lips.

"She's looking good," he told her gently. "I think we've found your talent, Milady. Once you've finished her, we'll fire her and she can take pride of place!" She looked up and grinned slightly smugly as he wrapped his ams around her. "My brilliant girlfriend…"

"Cut that out," she protested half-heartedly as he kissed her. "Now let's get this girl finished…"

oOo

She'd left early because she had meetings, kissing the dozing Hiccup lightly and running her hands through his wild hair. He had murmured he loved her and she had automatically murmured 'Ditto', though the smile stretching his sleepy features had mollified her guilt temporarily. And the day had been frenetic…until she texted him at lunch, asking him to meet her at a very special place. Heather had regained her good mood and was bouncing with excitement at her plan, very much approving of her decision.

But she had lost track of time as she finished the transactions and finalised the money transfer to the joint fund she had set up with Stoick Haddock that she privately thought of as the 'Hiccup fund.' Of all the people in Berk, she trusted Stoick to use the money wisely and do the most good for the most people while guaranteeing modest but reasonable returns for cautious but philanthropic investors. Then she logged off and flipped her small pocket diary closed, stuffing it into her purse. She took it everywhere with her, guarding the account numbers and passwords to every account and fund they managed jealously: not even Heather knew all the details, because ultimately, the money entrusted to the company was Astrid's responsibility. And a Hofferson never shirked her responsibility.

She checked her watch again and muttered a curse, grabbing her purse and coat and winding her aqua scarf around her neck. She had arranged to meet Hiccup by the Dragon Fountain at the edge of Raven Point Park: it was the location where he had asked her to move in with him, where he had planned to declare his love for her, before he accidentally mumbled the words in bed-and a favourite place for picnics and just meeting up. He had agreed to be there for seven but she knew he was usually five minutes late so she sped out of the office, making sure the door was closed and locked. It was already dark, for autumn was wrapping around Berk, turning the leaves gold and the mornings foggy and she pulled the scarf tighter round her neck as she accelerated. The streets were quiet and the chill in the air was probably discouraging the people of Berk from too much fresh air. The coffee shops were full and she glanced at the knots for friends, huddled together over warm treats-but she had her own warm treat on the way.

She was going to say the words. And she knew how Hiccup would respond, could already picture the delight in his stunning emerald gaze, already feel his arms wrapped around her…all because of three small words.

_I love you._

And she did. It wasn't untrue, it wasn't an exaggeration: she loved him with all her heart. And now she had taken her decision, she had no idea why she was so reluctant to say it. It was a statement of fact and was something that would make the man she loved happy beyond words. It was the last little bump in their relationship-and she was going to iron it out. She smiled and rounded the corner, seeing the Fountain swathed in shadows, the main lamp out of order. The silhouette of the Night Fury was dark against the night sky, the shadows of the trees casting long shadows over the space. She turned and faced back to the gate, searching for the familiar tall shape-and seeing him round the corner. Hiccup was wrapped in a long warm coat, the soft green scarf she had given him wrapped around his neck and he waved as he saw her. She turned to face him and grinned, waving back.

Something hit her hard, an impact slamming her sideways. Instantly, hands snatched at her purse and instinctively, she grabbed back, holding on for dear life. The attacker pulled harder, shadows swathing his face with only a pair of pale green eyes glittering.

"Let go!" he growled.

"GET OFF!" she shouted, fighting furiously to hang onto her purse. Credit cards could be replaced and cancelled and she had very little actual cash on her-but her little book was in her purse and she wouldn't give up without a fight. The attacker was struggling and she heard shouts approaching, heard Hiccup's voice.

"LET HER GO!"

A shot echoed through her ears and she felt a blow to her chest as the mugger finally ripped the purse from her hands and sprinted off back into the park. Enraged, she raced after him, screaming obscenities. But he was far quicker than she was and he soon vanished into the gloom. Behind her, there was a brief flash of light and she wondered if the overhead lighting had finally come on-but when she turned round, it was still as dark as before. Dejected, she walked back…

And then a memory struck her. The shot.

The attacker had a gun. And Hiccup had been charging straight at him.

"HICCUP!" she shouted and accelerated back towards the fountain, hearing faint sounds. His voice. Oh Gods-if he was hurt, if he was harmed because she had been so stupid she didn't just let that felon run off with her purse, she would never forgive herself.

And her heart did stop as she got back, seeing him slumped on his knees, his back to her. She could hear his faint whimpers.

"Help," he breathed. "Thor, Odin…no…please…"

"Hiccup-are you okay?" she asked, running forward, azure gaze sweeping over him for signs of injury. But he was bowed forward, a shape clutched in his arms.

"Hiccup?"

"Astrid…please…please don't leave me," he whimpered.

"It's okay, babe-I'm here," she reassured him, walking round him. And then she froze.

"I love you," he sobbed, tears dripping from his face onto the familiar shape in his arms. "Please don't leave me."

Astrid stared down at the limp body clutched in his desperate embrace, into the face she saw every day in the mirror, blue eyes staring wide and blankly up at her, face colourless, blonde braid hanging limply from her tilted-back head. Hiccup was sobbing wildly, tears dripping onto the huge red patch over her chest where the bullet hole still leaked her blood into her blouse and coat.

And it was then that Astrid realised that she was dead.

 


	4. Four

**Four**

_She was dead._

It had seemed unreal as Astrid had crouched down by Hiccup, trying to comfort him, trying to work out what had happened, how she was able to stare at her own corpse and yet still be there, watching the man she loved break his heart. She gently reached out, meaning to wrap her arm around his jerking shoulders-but her arm was completely insubstantial, sinking through him with a strange, cold sensation. She jerked back, eyes wide in shock and gaped. She tried again-but it was like trying to touch smoke. There was no substance, no warmth or cold, no sensation at all. It was like touching a ghost.

She rose to her full height, staring at her hands, almost uncomprehending.

He wasn't the ghost: she was.

And she had no idea what to do, how to react. He couldn't see or hear her. She couldn't touch him. She would never feel his gentle, strong fingers stroke her face, feel the rough callouses on her cheeks, his soft lips on hers. She would never run her fingers through his soft auburn hair once more. Gods, she would never feel his warmth or his strength or…

Her vision blurred but there were no tears. Tears were a mortal, alive thing, a sign of life and emotion. She was a shade, an echo of a past life that just didn't know when to stop.

"I love you," she whispered brokenly. "Gods, I wish you could hear me now, Hiccup. I wish I had said it so many times when I had the chance. Now you'll never hear it and never know how much I love you and need you. How much I wanted to spend my life with you, to grow old with you, spend all my years with my love…"

And numb, empty, she saw him scream for help, watched the first people approach, saw phones snatched and emergency services called. And wordlessly, she watched blue lights flash and uniformed shapes crowd around her, trying against all reason to pull back what was long gone. Cops cordoned off the scene and led Hiccup back, eyes suspiciously trailing over the bloodstain on his coat where he had clutched her to him, rocking and crying and trying to call her back to him. But he pulled away, desperate as they covered her body and lifted the stretcher, taking her away.

"No! Astrid!" he shouted, urgently following her. "You can't take her away from me. Please-I can't leave her alone. Please…" The cops stared at him then nodded, allowing him to clamber into the back of the ambulance with Astrid while they turned to the EMTs.

"Are you going to Blessed Freya ED?" the cop checked and the ET nodded, clambering into he cabin.

"They'll have to call it and then she'll need a post mortem," he said grimly. "Such a shame-a young woman, killed just like that. What is the world coming to?"

oOo

It was later and Astrid was sitting next to Hiccup on a bank of seats in the ED where her body was being declared dead. The cops had taken some details from him but he was in shock, shaking and staring blankly at the floor. His face was wet with tears and eyes red and swollen so a nurse had kindly brought him a cup of coffee-but he had been holding it for ten minutes, unable to process what had happened.

They had called his father and Astrid wished she could reassure him but she knew he couldn't hear or see or feel her. So she sat by him, desperate to comfort her broken-hearted lover and sighed.

"I know you can't hear me, Hiccup," she said gently. "But I am with you. I will always be with you. I will never leave you alone. I love you and I should have said it so many times. I should have made you knew I loved you every single second of every day. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

An old guy paused by her, his rheumy eyes sweeping over her neat shape. He was rotund, balding and dressed in baggy pants with suspenders, a dark brown cardigan and carpet slippers.

"He can't hear you, lass," he said kindly and her head snapped up in shock.

"But you can?" she gasped, slowly rising to her feet. He nodded and gave a small shrug.

"Well, I'm in the same predicament," he admitted, gesturing to a small side room and an empty trolley. "Three years ago, I was brought in and…well, my time was up. But my Doris was still alive so I couldn't leave her. I remained, watching over her, seeing her fade with grief. She died of a broken heart…but when she passed, she went into the light…but I couldn't follow. It seemed I had rejected my chance and was stuck here." He sighed. "It's usually us old ones…but sometimes you youngsters get lost as well."

He had begun to amble along the corridor and she found herself walking alongside, wanting to hear more. He was literally the only person who could hear her now and though she loved Hiccup, there was a growing sense of isolation.

"Does it happen often?" she asked him curiously, already calculating how many people died every day but he gave a gentle smile before he grimaced and rubbed his back.

"Lumbago," he apologised. "Obviously as a ghost I don't have a bad back…well, I don't have a back…but I do have the _memory_ of a back-and one that twinged!" He grinned and she found herself smiling back. "Not that often, to be honest. Tends to be when someone has so much to stay for that they reject the call to the afterlife. Well, the good one…no one can resist the other one…" And he shuddered.

"Other one?" Astrid asked carefully. If she was stuck here, she should gain as much information as she could about how things worked. He nodded.

"When you died, did you feel a light, a sudden warmth that reached for you, that pulled you…?" he asked her thoughtfully and for a moment she paused…and then she nodded.

"I thought it was the security lighting-I was chasing after the mugger…" she began and then her eyes widened. "After my murderer! But when I turned back, it had already faded…" The old man rubbed his mildly whiskery chin and nodded, his greying jowls moving slightly.

"You are clearly a very strong-willed young woman," he told her thoughtfully. "You were so focussed on chasing the man who killed you that you rejected the afterlife…"

"What's the other one?" she asked him directly. He sighed.

"Most people when they go head…" He pointed self consciously upwards. "But a few bad souls…well, the others come for them." He shuddered. "They're dark and flow and are terrifying…and no one ever escapes…" Astrid glanced around in anxiety but he patted her kindly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, lass-you're not theirs. You're here, aren't you?" Then he patted her shoulder smartly and pointed behind her. "Look!" he said and she spun.

In the room behind them, through the window, they could see an old woman, a mask on her face and doctors and nurses treating her urgently. But there was a glow beginning to fill her face, growing stronger and stronger by the moment.

"The Shimmer," the old man said knowingly. "She's going." Behind the old woman, the EKG flatlined and red alarms flashed. The team swung into action, flattening the bed and beginning expert CPR. A nurse trundled up the defibrillator. But as Astrid and the old man watched, the old woman rose from her body, even as the current arched through her chest. Her lined face was lifted in a beatific smile, her arms stretched out as she rose into the glow-and vanished.

The Team tried for a few more minutes but the EKG remained stubbornly flat and when they called the time of death, Astrid sighed. "It would help them if they knew," she murmured and the old man shrugged.

"Maybe-but human beings cling to hope," he reminded her. "How would you live if you knew the exact date and time of your death? Make every moment count or give in to hopelessness?" He patted her shoulder aimlessly as she mulled over his words. A life of hard physical sports at school and college, of the ruthless pursuit of excellence and exacting financial endeavour hadn't really prepared her for practical metaphysics. "You should go back to your young man, lass," he suggested kindly. "He needs you-even if he doesn't realise it." She nodded and turned away-but she paused.

"Where can I find you?" she asked and he gave a grin, rubbing his back again.

"I'm usually round here-or sometimes at the cemetery, visiting Doris," he said and walked through a double door and into the next room. She stared and then spun on her heel, marching back, trying to dodge around the people, even though they couldn't see or hear her. She spun-and then came face to face with a technician-who walked straight through her. Her eyes widened and she stiffened as her vision peeled back the layers as she experienced them-skin, muscle, bone, eyeballs, brain, skin, hair…and the was gone. She heard him give a shudder.

"Someone just walked over my grave," he mumbled and continued on his way. She shook herself and then made it back to the bank of seats-to see the familiar shape-but now the enormous shape of Stoick Haddock was with his son. Stoick was six foot ten, four hundred pounds and stern with flaming red hair and a huge beard, his face stricken at seeing his only child so distraught. Hiccup was staring blankly ahead, the cold cup of coffee still clasped in his shaking hands.

"She's dead," he whispered as Astrid arrived back at his side. Stoick gently slid his enormous powerful arm across Hiccup's shoulders, pulling the young man towards him.

"I'm so sorry, son," he said in his gruff voice, inexorably pulling the young man against him. Hiccup was six foot one and lean-so he looked skinny and dwarfed by his enormous father. "I know how much you loved her." Hiccup lifted his tragic face, his emerald eyes shining.

"I don't know…how I can go on…" he said in a choked voice as Stoick wrapped his arms around the lean shape. The coffee cup spilled to the floor as Hiccup pressed against him, burying his face into the massive chest. "Dad…it hurts so much…how can I go on?"

oOo

Stoick took his son home, supporting the desolate young sculptor as he walked to his limousine, helping him into the back and waving the driver, the solid one-handed one-legged shape of Gobber unselfconsciously driving on. The man nodded, his blue eyes trailing to the distraught shape of Hiccup and looking distinctly worried. Astrid watched as he lumbered into the car before pulling away rapidly and gliding through the sparse traffic towards the Financier's mansion on the other side of the Park. She had leapt into the back as the two men had gotten in and scooched into a corner, sitting between Hiccup and the window as the young man rested back, his eyes closed.

"Son," Stoick said gently, his eyes filled with sadness. "Tell me what happened?"

Hiccup shuddered, sighing. "Astrid asked to meet me by our special place-the Dragon Fountain," he said slowly. "She said she had something to tell me-and I had something to tell her as well." He swallowed, neck moving as he struggled to speak. "I saw her waiting for me-and then she was jumped. A purse snatcher-but she fought." His lips tilted. "My fierce girlfriend would never lie down and let anyone steal from her. But he had a gun and I saw the flash…he ran back into the park but she was just lying there, blood on her chest…and when I got there, I knew she was…gone…"

"I'm still here," Astrid said quietly.

"And I just…I just held her and begged her to stay…I can't believe she's gone, Dad," Hiccup breathed. "I just keep seeing the flash and the sound of the gun…and Astrid falling…" Stoick looked up in concern, staring to meet the driver's gaze in the rear view mirror.

"Son, we'll have Doctor Gothi come by and see you," he said quietly. "You're going to need a sedative…" But Hiccup's frantic eyes snapped open and he shook his head urgently.

"Oh no, Dad!" he said in a terrified voice. "What if I forget her? What if I forget one single tiny detail that may mean we can catch him? What if I lose one second of my last memory of the woman I love?I can't sleep. I can't leave her. Please, Dad-don't make me sleep!"

In the rear view mirror, Gobber nodded and the screen slid up between the front and back seats. Astrid guessed he would be making a phone call to Stoick Haddock's physician. But Hiccup had bowed forward, covering his face with shaking hands and shoulders jerking.

"She's alone there, Dad," he whispered. "I should with her. Please-get her back…please…" Stoick hugged his son, feeling the rhythmic jerking as sobs wracked him, almost preventing him breathing.

"We'll get her back, son," he promised. "You're her next of kin. We'll get her home…and do right by her."

_Bury me,_ she realised, watching Hiccup crumble. Stoick squeezed his son tighter.

"I'll let her work know," he promised. "And I want you to stay with me for a few days. "i'll send Gobber to fetch Toothless…" Hiccup shivered.

"Okay," he said brokenly. "But-but I want to go home as soon as I can…because all her things are in our house. Astrid is still there." He sighed. "I can almost feel her here, Dad. I just wish I could tell her how much I love her…how I wish it had been me, not her. I love her so much."

Stoick glanced up as they pulled into the drive of his house and slid into the underground garage and held his only child close.

"I'm sorry, son," he whispered as Astrid watched. "I know how you feel. When your mother passed…I wanted to die as well. And if I could take away the pain, I would. But all I can do is go through it with you. You're not alone, son. You'll never be alone."

"I'm here with you, babe," Astrid murmured. "I'll never leave you."

oOo

Astrid spent the next day sitting by Hiccup. A very elderly female doctor had arrived fifteen minutes after they got home and given the exhausted young man a sedative…and because he no longer had any strength to resist, Hiccup had taken it. Shortly after swallowing the pill, he had folded in his father's arms and Stoick had carried his adult son like a baby upstairs to his childhood bedroom and had undressed him and put him in bed. He rested his huge hand on the tousled auburn hair as Astrid settled on a chair by the window.

"Sleep well, son," the big man whispered. "Things will look better in the morning."

In the small hours, Hiccup had nightmares, crying and whimpering for Astrid and, heartbroken, she had managed to climb onto the bed and lie by him. She couldn't touch him, couldn't feel his warmth or the brush of his breath on her skin…but as she lay by him, he quietened and he managed to sleep until morning. But as she watched him, she wondered what she could do. It hurt her more than she could say to see him in such pain-and be able to do nothing. She remembered how much pain she had felt when her parents died, the shock of their sudden death-and she guessed he was struggling with the same pain-but much worse, because Hiccup wore his heart on his sleeve. He loved her, body and soul and never failed to make sure she knew. And she had been so stupid she hadn't wanted to say the words.

The next morning, Stoick had kept his word and informed Heather and the rest of the employees that she had died. Astrid knew that Heather would keep the company stable until her Will was read. She had left her company to Hiccup on the proviso that his father ran it-but that he approved the philanthropic loans. She trusted Hiccup with her dreams-because he had shared his with her. But when he finally woke, he was a wrecked shell of a man, huge shadows under his eyes, skin pale and eyes red. He shambled through the house like he was sleep-walking, managed a little coffee but ate nothing. And not even the arrival of Toothless could cheer him up. He just sat on the sofa, peering at the image of Astrid and himself on his phone, occasionally blinking away a tear.

By the afternoon, Astrid was growing worried and she could tell that Stoick was as well. The huge man tried to ply his son with food, drink and even more sedatives but the young man just sat with the dog resting hard against him.

"You have to eat," Stoick insisted but Hiccup shook his head.

"I'm good," he said tonelessly.

"Not, you're not," Astrid said softly. Toothless whimpered.

"No, you're not," Stoick told him gently. "I know how much the lass meant to you. I know how much you wanted to spend your life with her. Thor, I was even hoping for grand babies one day…" Astrid's eyes widened before she managed a small smile. "But somehow Lord Odin decided it wasn't to be. And I am here for you until you're safe to be left on your own."

"You're not alone," Astrid promised him as the bell rang. There was the sound on limping steps as the one-legged one-handed retainer/driver, Gobber made his way to the door, grumbling loudly. There were low words and then Gobber reluctantly made his way into the sumptuous sitting room, two detectives in cheap suits standing at his back.

"Detective Mala and Detective Throck are here from Berk PD about Astrid Hofferson's death," he said in a growling voice. "They need to ask Hiccup some questions." Stoick nodded and pointedly took a huge leather armchair as the detectives sat opposite Hiccup as he slumped, cross-legged on a black leather couch. His lean shape was clothed in a loose T-shirt and loose training pants, unshaven with ashen skin, deep shadows under his red-rimmed eyes, the life gone from the emerald gaze and an arm wrapped around his black dog that was watching him worriedly.

"Mister Haddock, I'm sorry to disturb you at this sad time, but we need to take statement from you while the events are fresh in your mind," Throk, a tall, buff man with cool eyes and red hair, asked. His expression was suspicious. Hiccup's gaze flicked up.

"Doubt they'll ever not be fresh," he said hoarsely.

"Did you see the person who you say shot Miss Hofferson?" Walking across the room and peering out into he garden, Mala's words were cold. She was a tall woman with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes who carried herself with great poise-but there was total remoteness in her face. Her green eyes swept over the wrecked young man carefully as she turned back.

"He was a little taller then me, buff…very short hair…maybe red?" Hiccup murmured. "It was very dark and he was running away." He frowned. "Didn't the security cameras catch anything?"

"Out of order-like the main illumination," Mala informed him coldly. "Can you think of any reason anyone would want to harm Miss Hofferson?" Hiccup flinched.

"Um…she was quite well off," he mumbled. "She ran an investment company…"

"While you're a poor artist," Throk commented sharply.

"Who is the only son and Heir to the Haddock Corporation," Stoick commented.

"Did you have any reason to harm Miss Hofferson?" Mala asked Hiccup directly. "Did you have any reason to kill her?"


	5. Five

**Five:**

"Did you have any reason to harm Miss Hofferson?" Mala asked Hiccup directly. "Did you have any reason to kill her?"

Astrid felt fury roil through her, utterly enraged at the implication. This was Hiccup-her Hiccup, the gentlest, kindest, most loving man on Midgard. How dare this…person…suggest that he could mean her any harm? He would have died for her and was suffering so badly right now. Her fists balled and the windows began to rattle, just slightly while Toothless gave a whine, flattening his ears and ducking down behind Hiccup.

"No," he said in a dry, toneless voice. "I love her with all my heart. I would never hurt her. I wish…I wish it had been me, not her…"

"But the commonest perpetrators of murder are partners and family," Mala insisted coldly. "Did you have a good relationship with Miss Hofferson?"

"I loved her with all my heart," Hiccup said softly.

"And did she love you?" Throk asked him coldly, staring at the young man. Lifting his red-rimmed eyes, Hiccup nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I know she did."

"But…" Throk prompted him seductively.

"She never said it," he sighed, his hand tousling Toothless's ears and Astrid felt a curl of shame-and guilt. "I-I know she loved me because she showed it every day, every second we were together…she…she just didn't like to say the words. To her, they were just words, that didn't mean anything…"

"And did her refusal to acknowledge your feelings make you angry?" Throk pressed. "Did you wish to force her to speak the words-and kill her in the process?"

"Wha...? NO!" Hiccup shouted. "Gods, you have no idea…I watched her die! I held her in my arms…"

"Wracked with guilt?" Mala pressed. Hiccup stared at her, green eyes wide with horror and mouth hanging open as Astrid's rage filled her. The windows rattled more definitely and the lamp nearest to where she was sitting on the arm of the couch began to sway…and then fell over. Toothless growled as Stoick rose to his feet.

"HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE MY SON?" he roared, eyes flashing with rage that fully matched Astrid's own. "My son is distraught at the murder of his beloved and you come here and sling around dirty, lazy accusations instead of finding the man who killed her!" Mala turned to glare at him.

"Mr Haddock-that is precisely what we are doing," she said coldly. "We just have a few more questions for your son…" She paused. "You were aware that Miss Hofferson had a large life insurance policy for which your son was the sole beneficiary? That her death would earn him three million dollars?" Stealing a glance at Hiccup, who was trembling, his eyes too bright, Stoick shook his head.

"No, I was not aware of that," he said grimly.

"Your son is an artist-but not a particularly successful one," Throk said brutally. "His earnings in the last fiscal year were in the hundreds of dollars. Maybe he felt ashamed at his failure."

"No!" Hiccup blurted out. "Astrid believed in me! I'm not a failure-I'm just not a well-known artist…"

"My son is Heir to the Haddock fortune," Stoick cut in. "On my death, he will inherit in excess of fifty million dollars. And he has no appetite for money…" Mala gave a thin, scornful smile.

"In my experience, everyone does," she told him coldly.

"Maybe you need to get out more," Hiccup commented dryly. She turned to glare at him.

"Was there anyone else? On either side?" she asked. Hiccup's eyes widened and he began to hyperventilate. The watching Astrid was incandescent and the windows were definitely rattling now.

"No!" he shouted. "Gods, there was never anyone else for me-and never will be. And Astrid…"

"Had three ex-boyfriends, one of whom she remained in contact with…" Throk pointed out. "Theo Carnegie…" Hiccup stared at her.

"What? Theo is gay!" Astrid yelled in a rage. Hiccup was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Theo is gay," he told them scornfully. "He dated Astrid as cover because he was applying for a partnership in Hoark's Law. He came out once he got the post-much to Astrid's annoyance that she had been used like that! But they patched up their differences and he's her lawyer for the firm. We also used him when we bought the house…"

"Sex, jealousy and greed, Mr Haddock," Mala said. "The commonest reasons to kill. Which one is yours?"

"Answer!" Throk snapped, leaning towards the auburn-haired sculptor and he cringed back, closing his eyes in defeat. But Stoick stomped forward and glared at them.

"No, you're done," he said angrily. "Next time, come back with a warrant and my son will only speak in the presence of his lawyer." He gestured to the door. Sharing a glance, the two detectives left and Stoick turned to his son. Hiccup had drawn his legs up to his chest, his face buried in his knees.

"How-how could they think I-I…" he mumbled, his back shuddering. His breathing was hitching and Astrid instinctively tried to hug him, her arm phasing through with a sudden cold sensation. Hiccup shuddered.

"I know you didn't harm me, Hiccup," she whispered gently, pulling back from the unsettling feeling of her arm passing through the man she loved as if he was the ghost, not her.

"I won't let them pin this on you, son," Stoick promised and for a second, Hiccup was still-and then he was on his feet and pressed against his father, sobbing wildly. Stoick's huge arms closed protectively around his only child.

"I miss her," Hiccup sniffed. "But they don't believe I didn't hurt her. They won't find the person who killed her. They just want me to be guilty."

"You're not," Stoick said grimly. "I'll protect you, son." Astrid nodded.

"So will I," she said softly. "I'll protect you-and find the man who killed me. Somewhere, he will think he's safe. But I have all the time in the world to find him."

oOo

It was a cold and grey Fall day as the Priest stood at the head of the grave while the mourners drew closer. Hiccup was dressed in his good suit, his long dark coat slung round his despondent shape. A chilly breeze ruffled his auburn hair as he stared down at the ebony coffin, seeing the simple brass plate:

**ASTRID FREJA HOFFERSON.**

Toothless was sitting quietly at his side, his big green eyes locked on his master's face. Stoick was standing at his side, black-clad and silent. Snotlout and Fishlegs were there for their friend and Hiccup acknowledged them with a wan smile and nod, but his emerald gaze kept trailing back to the casket, to the words that signalled the end of all his hopes. Heather was present, dressed all in black with Bella, Jeremy and Erin, three of the staff from the company all standing with bowed heads. Quietly, he stepped forward and laid a single red rose on the casket, resting a hand on the wood for a long moment.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered. "I'll never love anyone else."

Astrid felt her heart break a little more at his words and shook her head from where she stood, unseen, at the foot of the coffin.

"Oh, babe-you can't give up," she said softly. "I love you. I'll always be here for you. You just have to hang on. It will get better-I promise…" He closed his eyes for a long moment and stared at the plaque-and then he stepped back and swallowed as the Priest began to speak.

But when the brief and simple service was over and the others had gone, Hiccup was seated by the graveside, faithful Toothless at his side. Tears dripped from his face as he stared at the hole as the gravedigger was already starting to fill the grave in.

"I don't think I can go on," he whispered. "Astrid…it just hurts without you. Every day is just agony, knowing I have to go on and never see you again, never talk to you again, never kiss you again." He palmed his cheeks but it was beginning to rain and the water was trickling down his face, his hair darkening. "Gods, I never knew what I was missing until I met you. And now…I can never love again. You are my soul-mate."

Astrid sat beside him, looking at his desolate shape, stealing worried glances at him. She sighed. "You need to accept this-and love again. Out there, someone wonderful will be waiting for you. You are a wonderful, caring, loving man. You can't give up on life, just because of me." She knew he couldn't hear but the words made her feel a mite better because sitting through her own funeral had been a very dislocating experience, truly bringing home the finality of her plight. Everyone had been very kind and very complimentary about her-and Heather had been more distraught than Astrid had expected. She sighed again: Heather had helped her build the company and was shocked-as well as stressed because she couldn't access any of the accounts. But that would soon be settled as well.

"Go back home," she said firmly. "If I find you catch your death, I'll kill you!"

Hiccup stared at the grave for a moment longer and then ran his icy hand through his sodden hair.

"Y'know, if Astrid was here, she's call me an idiot or a mutton-head…"

"Or both," Astrid muttered.

"…for sitting out in the rain. I even bet she'd even threaten to kill me if I died of pneumonia from sitting in the rain, right?" Toothless's ears pricked and the dog whined. "Yeah, she'd probably punch me as well. Thor, she had a punch!" His lips stretched into a small, brief smile. "C'mon, boy- let's head back." He rose, pressing his fingers to his lips. "Goodbye, Milady," he murmured and turned away to the waiting car and his father.

Astrid stared, knowing he was going home and would be safe…but as she looked, there were a number of shapes out there not dressed for the weather-and slightly blurred, almost a little out of focus with the real world. Then she recognised one: the old man with the cardigan and the carpet slippers from the hospital. Purposefully, she strode towards the shade but slowed as she approached, not wishing to intrude. Her eyes peered past-and saw the gravestone.

**EUGENE ULRICSON**

**Beloved husband**

**…**

**DORIS MAE ULRICSON**

**Beloved wife**

**…**

But the old man looked up with a smile, his gentle eyes welcoming. "What're you doing here, lass?" he asked and she gestured over to the direction she had come. His eyes widened. "I saw. Good turn-out. There always is for you young 'uns," he commented without rancour. "How are you feeling?" Astrid sighed.

"Lost," she mumbled. "I mean, I want so much to comfort Hiccup and let him know I'm here but I just…can't…" He patted her shoulder kindly.

"He'll sense you-and others can as well: animals, the dying, those in comas, maybe some in that nether world between sleep and awake, some spiritualists…"

"Some?" she asked dryly and was rewarded by a mischievous grin.

"The ones who aren't fakes," he grinned, tapping the side of his nose. "Of course, they can just not want to hear you. But the fakes…well, sometimes you can make life a little more scary for them…"

"How?" she asked directly.

"Have you heard of poltergeists?" he asked her and she nodded. Astrid was a very practical, grounded young woman, very much attached to her physicality and with a very perfunctory observance of the rituals only. To her precise analytical mind, ghosts did not exist, could not exist…and yet…here she was, as a ghost talking to a ghost. And that meant that she needed to expand her paradigm to encompass her new reality-and, more practically, to know as much as she could about her new status in order to protect Hiccup and make sure he was happy. "Some ghosts can physically affect the world around them…"

"How?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Never figured it out myself," he admitted. "You'd need to ask a spirit who has those powers." He leaned closer. "But be careful, lass. They always seem to be very angry, bitter people. I just hope you don't have to become like that to get those powers…because I'd rather not…and rather you didn't either…" She offered a wan smile. The afternoon was fading, the grey drizzle setting in for the evening and light failing fast but at least she was dry and couldn't feel the cold.

"Um…can I ask you one last thing?" she asked. He nodded encouragingly. "Doors. I…I can't open them and…" He laughed at her-not unkindly-and patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"That's living thinking!" he told her lightly. "You don't need to open them, lass. You walk straight through." She frowned.

"I-I tried," she admitted, "but I felt cold, felt the very thought being sucked out of me and…"

"You were getting trapped," he realised. "Don't stop or take your time. Walk fast. Go straight through! They only exist as barriers if you let them. You're a ghost! Walk through walls and be proud of it!" Impulsively, she flung a hug around him.

"Thank you," she said, staring after the long-departed funeral cars. "Now all I have to do is figure out if there is a super-fast ghost means of getting from A to B…" The old man shook his head, chuckling lightly and resting a hand briefly against his back.

"Nope-you have to use transport…or walk…like everyone else," he said, turning back to his grave. Determinedly, Astrid strode out into the grim evening, past the worker who had almost finished burying her.


	6. Six

**Six**

Hiccup moved back to their home after the funeral-accompanied by faithful Toothless and, of course, Astrid. And it had been immensely painful to watch the man have to pause at the door of the home they had built, had loved together and have to steel himself to turn the key in the lock and enter.

The hall was cold and dark, the lights not on and a light layer of dust on the surfaces. He turned to the thermostat, switched up the heat and flipped the light on. And stiffened-for the first thing he saw was Astrid's baby blue woollen hat carelessly discarded in the hall table. Astrid gasped as he slowly extended an arm and gripped it, raising it slowly to his face and breathing deeply, catching the last hints of her scent. He closed his eyes for a long moment and sighed.

"Gods, I miss you, Milady," he murmured, then forced himself to put the hat down and walk into the rest of the building. Automatically, he lit the fire in the log-burner in the main living room, put the kettle on and poured a pile of biscuits into Toothless's bowl. The black dog looked up with a whine, then turned to his meal, his tail wagging. "Hmm…didn't take you long to get back to normal," he mumbled, opening the cupboard, reaching out…and then stiffening, giving a low groan.

He had instinctively grasped two mugs when making the coffee: marked _Babe_ and _Milady_. With a shaking hand, he placed _Milady_ back in the cupboard and closed the door, listlessly spooning instant coffee granules and sugar in, then sloshing the boiling water in. He pressed a hand to his face.

"I can't do it, bud," he murmured. "Everything here reminds me of her. I just expect to turn around and see her." Toothless whined and instantly walked to his side, pressing against his leg. Tousling the dog's ears, he reached for the milk carton and poured a big slosh in. He sipped his coffee and stared down into the big green eyes of the mutt. "Don't leave me, okay? I'm not sure I could cope without you as well, buddy."

Quietly, he walked through the house, emerald eyes sliding quietly across every corner, replaying memories of being here with Astrid. And she watched him, seeing each new memory hit him like a fresh wound, the pain of her absence crippling. The bathroom with her toiletries and make-up neatly arrayed, her toothbrush lying waiting for an owner who would never return: her home office that was pristine, the plant wilting from lack of water-and the bedroom, her side neat with everything stowed and put away meticulously but overall looking wrecked because Hiccup's side was a disaster as he grabbed things for the funeral, trying not to look at the room and the side of the bed that would be forever empty. He pulled his tie off, dumped the jacket on the bed and then unfastened the top button of his shirt, sliding it over his head. It joined the piles of clothes on the bed. He kicked his shoes off and threw his socks aside, then removed his pants. Urgently, he dragged out one of his loose tee-shirts and hauled on a mucky pair of paint- and clay-splattered jeans that Astrid always wrinkled her nose at-and he once again looked like the sculptor/potter she had fallen in love with. Driven by silent purpose, he sped up the stairs to the loft studio and clicked the lights on, letting out a shuddering sigh.

He was home: this was his space, his haven, the place where he was himself most of all. But even here, there were reminders…the wheel where he had attempted to teach her how to throw pots and which had led to so much more, the table where she had been learning to make clay animals…the blanket where they made love. He walked aimlessly-and then he found the small kiln still locked, though stone cold because it had completed a firing the night…the night she had died. He frowned and quietly opened the door-to stare at the little shape within.

It broke him. He slumped to his knees, hands flat on the surface and head bowed, as sobs shuddered through him. Terrible tearing sobs filled the silent room as tears dripped from his desperately closed eyes. It was her last effort, the little dragon she had been so proud of-her own personal species-a 'Deadly Nadder'-that she had named Stormfly. Throat constricted with utter misery, he reached out and cradled the little shape, cool and smooth and slightly rough with the biscuit firing.

"She came out pretty well," Astrid murmured, eyeing the little dragon. "Look after him, girl."

Suddenly, Hiccup was on his feet, fired with purpose. He almost stumbled to the table and laid the little sculpture reverently on the surface, before grabbing his tints and stains and a fine brush. Then he clicked the light on.

"Okay, Stormfly," he murmured, grasping the brush in his left hand and opening the first tint. "Copper to bring out the sky blue…gold and…white for the highlights…" He pulled up a stool and leaned forward. "Blue for Astrid's eyes, gold for her hair and white for her skin." He took a small breath. "Okay, let's make you almost as beautiful as your creator…"

oOo

"Okay, this is not healthy," Snotlout announced, frying a pan of eggs with more enthusiasm than skill. Hiccup sipped his beer, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Really? I'm not sure that's healthy either!" he shot back, eyeing the bubbling eggs and oil.

"When did you last eat properly?" Fishlegs asked him directly, tidying. The kitchen that Astrid had been so proud of-even though Hiccup was far and away the better cook-was grubby and messy, with cartons of proto-yoghurt that had once been milk fermenting the the fridge and the cooker grimy and crusted with grease. Astrid watched Hiccup's friends gently scold him while determinedly taking care of him.

"Um…two days ago…though I'm pretty sure cereal counts…"

"You don't have any milk, Hiccup!" Fishlegs growled, dumping the cartons on the trash. "How can you eat cereal?"

"It's got marshmallows. I just eat it from the packet…"

"And drink…?"

"Black coffee. And beer…"

"Yeah, I can see that," Fishlegs muttered darkly, dumping another handful of cans in the trash.

"How do you want your steak?" Snotlout asked, peering at the severely charred lump of meat under the grill. Hiccup sighed.

"If I said 'rare' what chance would I have of getting a rare steak?" he asked pointedly.

"None-unless rare is very similar to almost-on-fire," Fishlegs commented, wiping the table clean and throwing the last of the spoiled food in the trash. Deftly, he began to store the fresh food from the bags he and Snotlout had brought for their friend.

"Ha ha, Fishface!" Snotlout grumped, grabbing the tossed salad he had prepared and slamming the bowl on the table, then divvying out the eggs and steaks. "Come on, Hicc-you look like a hobo. Your hair is…wild, you've got a sort of beard-really bad, man-lose it!-and you need a shower." Disinterestedly, Hiccup sniffed at his tee-shirt and he was forced to wrinkle his nose, a twinge of pain shooting through him as he recalled Astrid's determined rescue of him from his obsession and the exact same scenario. He nodded. Fishlegs stood by him and folded his arms so he wearily levered himself up and dragged his body over to the table, plonking down by the food and taking a tentative bite…and then grabbing the knife and attacking it like a starving man. His two friends shared a look, then took their places by him, starting their own portions.

"Cuz-you know I care for you and this is meant with the best of intentions…but this is really not healthy!" Snotlout said with his mouth full. Years of dealing with his cousin meant that Hiccup could still understand him perfectly,

"I know you're hurting and what happened was…horrible…but you can't keep on like this!" Fishlegs added. Emerald eyes flicked up defensively before they fixed back on the rapidly-clearing plate.

"I'm fine." The stubbornness was there that had the watching Astrid rolling her eyes. She had watched him over the last few days, seeing him neglect himself-though not Toothless-and mourn her. Mainly in his studio where he worked day and night, creating some of the most beautiful and sad pieces she had ever seen: sculpted relief plaques studded by dying dragons; tall, willowy vases that echoed a wilting flower and a clay bust of Astrid herself. And through it all, the little fired dragon, Stormfly, was there, perched on the shelf in all her fired and glazed glory.

"You're not fine," Astrid sighed.

"You're not fine," Fishlegs sighed. "Hiccup-Astrid loved you…"

"Did she?" he asked painfully, his eyes briefly revealing his desolation. "She never said it. In fact, she refused to say it. She thought they were just words…but to me, they were…everything."

"She loved you," Snotlout insisted sternly. "Gods, I am probably the least sensitive person in our High School Year and I could spot it. Whatever reasons she had-and I guess the fact all her family and everyone she loved died on her may have had some bearing-never doubt what she felt."

"Wow," Astrid commented, peering at the stocky man. "That is the single most mature and insightful speech you have ever made. Why couldn't you have made it before I died?"

"Wherever Astrid is now, she would not want you to die," Fishlegs said. "You're trying to waste away here, Hicc-but she would want you to live. She loved you. She loved your work, your insight, your kindness…and your compassion. She would want you to go on. She would want you to protect her legacy. And share your talent with the world. She believed in you. You have to believe in her." Hiccup pushed his empty plate away.

"Kind of hard now she's dead." he said bitterly.

"She's here," Fishlegs said with utter conviction. Astrid stared at him in shock.

"Can you see me? Hear me?" she asked in shock-but his next words dashed her hopes.

"In spirit," the husky blonde man qualified, staring very pointedly at the young man. "She'll always be with you because you loved her. And she would be very unhappy to see you like this!"

"Or her kitchen," Snotlout added.

"Damned right," Astrid muttered as Toothless gave a small whine. The dog was looking directly at her and she frowned. Hiccup gave a huge sigh and slumped back.

"You're right," he admitted, sipping his beer. "But I've never been in love before and I'm still in love and knowing that I can never see her again, never touch her again, never hear her voice or kiss her…it's killing me!" He stared at the table. "Sometimes I want it all to end…" Astrid moved forward and gently rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Oh, babe," she whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"And then I realise I am being selfish…because I have Toothless and my Dad and there are all those things, the plans I made with Astrid…and I have to do them because we can't do them together." He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, his voice shaky. "But thanks, guys. I needed this."The two young men shared a look.

"Don't think you're getting rid of us that easily," Snotlout commented. "We clean this tip up-and then you set a date to start putting some of Astrid's stuff away!"

"NO!" Hiccup's voice was abrupt and angry.

"Not all of it, Hiccup," Fishlegs said in a mollifying voice. "But a few items…just to tidy up." Hiccup shook his head.

"No, I can't…" His voice was almost panicked. "It-it will seem like she's left me and…" His voice cracked. "And like she isn't coming back." Snotlout rose and walked through Astrid, throwing an arm around Hiccup's shoulders.

"She isn't coming back, cuz," he said sadly, seeing the auburn-haired sculptor screw his eyes shut. "I'm sorry…but…"

"But that doesn't mean she's ever left you," Fishlegs murmured. "Look, we'll go through your pictures and choose the best of them. You can put one in each room so she's there with you. How's that sound?" Hiccup peered at him and swiped his damp cheeks.

"Have you been reading up on dealing with grief?" he asked suspiciously, knowing his friend's penchant for research. His suspicions were confirmed when Fishlegs blushed scarlet and fiddled with his hands. "But…it's a good idea," he admitted, forcing himself to give a strained smile. "Okay-but I'll have a shower first and then we can check through those pictures…"

oOo

Despite the visit from Snotlout and Fishlegs-and Stoick and Gobber dropping by, Astrid watched Hiccup over the next few of days and saw him continue to struggle. He spent more time than ever in his studio and as she looked on, the man she loved set himself to work once more, moulding clay into shapes of animals. His movements were still as precise and skilled as ever but she could tell his heart wasn't into it as it used to be. A sad, weary expression remained on his face as he shaped the clay in his hands into that of a dragon, fingers smoothing the damp material and gently teasing wings and legs from the shapeless lump. With a sigh, he lifted a small wooden stylus and began to work on the intricate details.

A whine nearby caught her attention and she looked down to find Toothless staring directly up at her. She frowned and leaned forward.

"Toothless?" she murmured, wondering again if the dog could actually see her-and the words of Eugene, the old ghost from the hospital came back.

_Others can sense you as well: animals, the dying, those in comas, maybe some in that nether world between sleep and awake, some spiritualists…_

Toothless continued to whimper and she wondered whether her presence made him uneasy or just sad-so she knelt down by the black mutt and tried to wrap her arms around him to offer comfort. But this time, as every other time, her arms just passed through him, no matter how hard she tried. And try she did, over and over-but after many failed attempts, Toothless bounded off into the upstairs landing and grabbed the picture frame resting on the little table by the sash window before making his way over to Hiccup.

Sitting like a retriever with the item clutched in his mouth, he patted Hiccup's leg with his paw to get his owner's attention. Sighing, Hiccup stopped what he was doing, gently laying the stylus down and carefully placing the incomplete dragon on the smooth surface. He turned to his friend and reached out for the item in Toothless's mouth before he taking it and turning it around to look directly a picture of him and Astrid smiling back at him. He took a shuddering breath.

"You miss her too, huh bud?" he asked, mistaking the real reason why his companion brought him the picture as Toothless laid his head on his lap. Tears begin forming in his eyes as he looked at one of their happiest times. Astrid peered at the image and smiled: it had been a summer day in the park. Nothing fancy, just two lovers walking, sitting on the cool grass under the tree, eating ice cream and laughing and kissing.

"I miss her so much, Toothless. I can still feel her sometimes. It's almost like she never left. As if she's going to walk through that door any second now and tell me what she wanted to say," he said as he hugged his best friend with his free hand while the other stroked the smiling Astrid in the picture, the motions repetitive and determined, as if he could feel her skin again if he tried hard enough. "You know, if I had been a couple of minutes earlier, I would have been there with her and I could have protected her. I could have stopped him from taking her purse-or killing her. Thor, why am I always late?" He dug his hands into his hair. "I did it," he said in a dead voice. "It was my fault. If I had been on time, she would be alive…so it's my fault she's dead."

He glanced up at the little Deadly Nadder. "I killed her," he whispered. Astrid shook her head in dismay-and utter distress.

_No, no, no. He couldn't blame himself! It wasn't his fault. He had never harmed anyone in his life. He was always five minutes late-and she knew that. He wasn't responsible for a person who tried to grab her purse and had shot her in the process. And she couldn't let him torture himself over her death when he was wholly innocent._

She rose, trailing her hand over his face, staring deep into his distraught emerald eyes.

"You didn't kill me," she said sternly. "You didn't harm me. I love you-and I won't let you suffer." She turned to the dog. "Toothless-watch over him for me. I need to find someone who can hear me-and the man who really killed me. I won't let Hiccup blame himself."

The black tail thumped the floor as it wagged in acknowledgement and Hiccup hugged his canine friend tightly. But Astrid was already away, speeding down the stairs and running at the door, bursting through into the cold afternoon. She had a killer to find.


	7. Seven

**Seven**

It was getting dark and though she had trudged through the worst parts of town, Astrid had not seen any sign of the man who had attacked her. She found if she concentrated hard, she could slow down the memory of her final moments, almost like a freeze-frame so she could pick out the details of the man: a broad face with a wild look in his pale green eyes; three deep blue claw-like tattoos over his left eye; carrot-red hair, cropped short with a scrubby beard; lips moving as he screamed for her to let go…but his pistol had been in his hand as he grabbed the purse.

_It hadn't been Hiccup's fault._

As dusk fell, she drifted in and out of bars. Astrid was a financial wizard but several of her college friends and business acquaintances were lawyers and they often talked about their criminal work-including where they went to locate contacts, witnesses and suspects. So she was able to walk straight through, trying to avoid people-not because she couldn't just walk through them but as she passed through them, she saw right through them as well. And Astrid had discovered that she was mildly squeamish at inspecting the inside of people's chests and heads and brains.

But as the clock ticked round to ten, she noticed an old man, sitting in the corner of 'Fungus's Bar', a run-down haunt frequented by gang members and low-level gamblers and con men. Unusually, his mean, narrowed eyes were trailing her-and she realised with shock that he could see her. She frowned and turned to inspect him. He was about her height, skinny and scruffy with wild grey hair sticking out to the side of his head and a "Berk Raiders' cap plonked firmly on his head. His long, pointy nose wrinkled above a scrappy moustache in a sneer as he rose and walked through the people straight at her.

"Gerroutta here!" he snarled. "This is me bar. Me Fungus!"

"I-I mean no harm," she began, trying to explain. "I was just looking for…"

"GERROUT!" he roared and wave his arms wide, flinging pitchers of beer sideways and toppling over glasses of bourbon. The drunk and antsy patrons began to irritably grumble and argue with their neighbours. Shocked, Astrid backed up a pace.

"Please, I am just looking for the man who…"

Then his hands closed around the throat and though she didn't need to breathe, the shock of the attack and her human response to the grip was to choke and struggle feebly. She grabbed his wrist and saw his eyes glow very slightly. A nearby patron was shoved, hard-triggering off an immediate and ferocious bar fight. But the old man hauled her through the melee, kicking and fighting him all the way to the door, then holding in her half-in, half-out of the little place.

"THIS IS MY BAR!" he yelled. "MINE! NO MATTER I'M DEAD! MINE!" And he threw her out onto the street, shocked and shaken, feeling at her throat, even though he couldn't do her any harm. She blinked and then slowly rose to her feet, shaking her head and slowly beginning to walk back towards the house. She knew she couldn't get tired but she was feeling mentally exhausted and wanted to get home.

_She didn't have a home: she was dead._

She felt an overwhelming desire to get back to the house, to see Hiccup and sit by him and just feel his presence again so she lifted her head, setting out to walk across town…when a flashing sign caught her eye.

**THORSTON SPIRITUALISTS**

**GUARANTEED TO REACH YOUR DEARLY DEPARTED.**

She sighed, head snapping round and braid slapping her cheek. The old man, Eugene, had said some spiritualists could hear ghosts-but the cynic in Astrid reminded her that most, if not all, were fakes who preyed on the vulnerability and misery of bereaved and widowed relatives. But it was the first such store she had found so she wandered in, more out of interest than hope and saw, to her surprise, that there were a large selection of older women sitting waiting, all dressed in their Sunday finery. And hanging around in corners, were a few definitely dead people. As she watched, a man of her years with long blonde dreadlocks and light brown eyes ushered a crumpled pink-swathed elderly lady into the next room.

Interested despite herself, Astrid followed, walking through the wall with ease to see a simple square occasional table with a lacy tablecloth with two chairs in the middle of a small brown-painted room. The carpet was old fashioned with a busy pattern and had clearly seen too many days, for it was faded and scuffed, though clean. The young man was leering, his long face looking mildly surprised.

"Mrs Forsberg-you're back again?" the young man said loudly. "FANCY SEEING YOU HERE!" The elderly woman blinked.

"My hearing aid is working quite well today, Mr Thorston," she said in an offended voice. "Forty dollars, as before?" He swiftly relieved her of the money and indicated to her seat. Then, dramatically, he waved an incense stick around, making moaning noises.

"We call upon the door-ward of Asgard, upon Heimdallr to grant us sight!" he yelled. "Let my sister come forth and the spirits grace us!"

There was a rattle at the door in the opposing wall…then a pause…and then the door rattled and burst open with a young woman who almost looked exactly like an only slightly feminine version of the young man. Her long blonde hair was in three long braids, her pale grey-blue eyes were annoyed and she almost tripped over her long khaki kaftan. Seeing the shocked elderly woman, she immediately resumed her act, lifting her chin and adopting an otherworldly expression.

"I have been summoned by the spirits…" she said in an effusive voice. She sat as gracefully as she could manage and rested her hands flat on the table. There was a pause and she stamped on the floor once. The man jumped and held his arms out wide.

"My sister-the conduit of the other side, who can pass through the guard of the Valkyries and penetrate Valhalla itself, my sister who can see as far as Heimdallr…seer of the Valkyries…Ruffnut Thorston! Be quiet, Mrs Forsberg and wait for her to make contact."

"Mrs Forsberg-I am Ruffnut Thorston. We are trying to reach Halvard today, aren't we?" The woman nodded urgently and she was motioned to a padded old seat. Ruffnut smiled reassuringly-which just looked like a leer, to Astrid's sceptical eye. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. "I feel strongly that the spirits are close today…but there's no telling about that other world. I can try my best, but if they don't wish to come…well, you've got to be a believer. Are you a believer, Mrs Forsberg?" The old woman nodded so fiercely that her Sunday best hat almost fell off.

"Yes, yes…I truly believe!" she said eagerly. The supposed spiritualist closed her eyes and threw her head from side to side. She gave a groan as her brother gave a few atmospheric moans.

"No, it's too difficult to penetrate the barrier, it's too trying…wait…did your husband know someone named…Greta?" The female Thorston opened one eye slightly-to see Mrs Forsberg look shocked and puzzled.

"No, we don't know any…" she mumbled in a confused voice.

"Lisbeth? Marit? Vigdis? Bente…?" Ruffnut continued, a little more desperately. Astrid scowled: she could spot a liar when she saw one.

"Bente? Why…that was his Momma!" Ruffnut sagged in relief at the old woman's word and smiled fakely.

"Praise Odin!" she said enthusiastically. "I knew it. He's safe and with his momma!" There was a pause and Mrs Forsberg stared at her with a little uncertainty.

"Really?" she said suspiciously. "They never really got on after we married..." Ruffnut half-opened an eye and saw her client beginning to pull back. She thrashed in the chair, her head snapping from side to side.

"No-no…it's too difficult, I-I can't…" she said, frowning. "They're pulling away…" But Mrs Forsberg was determined and she leaned forward.

"I'll pay more!" she said urgently, reaching into her purse. "Another hundred…please keep trying…" Astrid stared around the room. To her apparently expert eye, it was completely devoid of any other ghosts. Wherever he was and whatever he was up to, Halvard Forsberg was not here. She snorted.

"Way to milk her for every penny!" she scoffed and Ruffnut opened her eyes to look around in suspicion, frowning.

"Huh?" Then she visibly shook herself before taking a breath and resuming her persona. "The spirits are coming…I feel his presence…he's here…" Mrs Forsberg's lined face lit with joy.

"Ooh! Halvard! My Viking raider!" she exclaimed and the watching Astrid felt a pang of sympathy. It was clear that she missed her late husband…and this pair were preying on that loneliness. Ruffnut was watching her through her eyelashes and she gestured exuberantly with her hand.

"He's right there beside you, Mrs Forsberg," she said and the old woman's head snapped round to the empty space where Astrid was 100% sure her husband wasn't. Ruffnut grinned. "And…oooh…you didn't mention that he's a handsome man…" she purred.

There was an awkward pause and the old woman looked suspiciously at the supposed spiritualist. It was clear that whatever he had been before he died, handsome wasn't one of Halvard Forsberg's qualities.

"Handsome? Are you sure?" the old woman asked. There was a flurry of worried looks between the siblings and Ruffnut leered more.

"Everyone looks handsome and…heroic in Valhalla!" she said swiftly.

"Good one, sis," the male muttered under his breath. Mrs Forsberg was too excited to notice, turning to the empty space and clasping her white-gloved hands excitedly.

"Oooh, Halvard," she cooed. "My personal pillager…" The unseen Astrid pulled a face.

"He is here…" the female Thorston repeated, her eyes sparkling. "Ask whatever questions you wish to his spirit…"

"What a crock of…there's no one here!" Astrid snorted, glaring at the fake.

The effect was instantaneous. Ruff's head snapped up and her eyes peered suspiciously around the room, as if seeking the source of the words. "Who's saying that?" she growled under her breath. Astrid stared at her and took a step closer.

"Wait-you can hear me?" she asked, astonished. Ruff shook her head, sending a glare at her brother, who just shrugged, unsure what he was supposed to have done.

"Who is that?" she demanded and Astrid walked round to stand by her shoulder.

"You can hear me?" Astrid demanded. She leaned closer. "Really? Say my name! Say my name!" Ruff threw herself back in the chair, Mrs Forsberg and the scam forgotten in her shock.

"Who is this? No! Leave me alone!" she shouted, scrambling out of the chair and tipping it over.

"Miss Thorston-are you alright?" Mrs Forsberg asked, also rising to try to help. Ruffnut screamed and ran towards the door, grabbing the handle and hauling on it-but it was stuck again. Astrid was leaning so she was talking directly into the other woman's ear.

"Say my name! Say my name! SAY IT! Astrid Hofferson! Astrid Hofferson!"

Ruff spun around wildly and waved her hands in a desperate attempt to ward off the unseen voice. "NO! Leave me alone!" she yelled. Her brother dropped all pretence as well and raced forward, trying to help her.

"Sis-what is it?" he asked in a worried voice. Ruff finally managed to haul the door open, looking around wildly.

"My name," the ghost insisted. Ruff glared at her brother.

"Astrid Hofferson!" she shouted and vanished into the room. "Leave me alone!" she yelled-and slammed the door.

Tuff stared at her and then turned to Mrs Forsberg. He gave a shrug.

"As you can see, the spirits are capricious and cruel," he sighed-then gave a bright smile. "Same time next week?"

oOo

In the next room, Ruff was leaning with her back against the door, panting. Her eyes stared wildly around the little kitchen-living room and then she almost ran to the counter and grabbed a knife, waving it around.

"Thor and Odin-protect me!" she said automatically. "Are you here?"

"Yup!" Astrid said, folding her arms and glaring at her. Ruff sighed.

"What do you want? I'm sorry I lied to those ladies but if not me, then someone else!" she protested. "They want to talk to the dead and that just can't happen…"

"Then what are we doing now?" Astrid asked her. Ruff spun round, the knife jabbing through her invisible shape.

"I think you're my guilty conscience…no, wait-I don't have a conscience!" she muttered. Astrid grinned and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"You have now," she smirked.

"AARGH! Just leave me alone!" she shouted.

"No! I'm not letting you alone. You can hear me. You're the only one! And I need you. So you will help me!" Astrid said determinedly as the door knob rattled and Tuff burst into the room, staggering and casting the lock a glare.

"Butt-elf-you okay?" he asked in a concerned voice. "I think you scared Mrs Forsberg half to death! And all our other customers have run away. I told them the spirits were angry this evening…so I hope they come back…"

"They will," Astrid said grimly. "Bereaved people desperately want to see or speak to their loved one, one more time…" And so do most ghosts, she added silently. I know I do..

"Yeah, I know," Ruff sighed as her brother scowled, for her answer made no sense…at least to what he had said. "Tuff-did you hear anything in the room. Any…er…voices…?" The man slumped onto the sagging couch and grabbed the remote, clicking the TV on and flicking through the channels until he found some football.

"Just my crazed twin going crazier than ever!" he grumped. "We're still short on the rent…even with the extra we got off Mrs Forsberg…" Ruff out the knife down and sighed.

"You know Mom had the gift?" she asked her twin, whacking him over the head with a cushion and he nodded. "I'm hearing someone…"

"Astrid Hofferson!" Astrid insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't need your name again," Ruff snapped. "So clingy…"

"Hey-you're the first person who can hear me since I died so forgive me for not being desperate for a proper conversation!" Astrid retorted, folding her arms.

"Yeah, well, we all got our little problems!" Ruff shot back, not seeing her brother sit up and look worriedly at her.

"Are you sure it's not the schizophrenia Uncle Fluffnut had?" he asked her directly. She spun and punched him in the face.

"Of course not!" she said irritably. "I'm hearing a dead person-you are dead, aren't you?"

"Not yet," Tuff grumbled and turned back to the game.

"Well, since I was shot through the heart, spent days in a freezer in the mortuary, had a post mortem and am now buried, I damned well hope so!" Astrid replied.

"Sarky…" the female twin growled and threw herself onto the couch by her brother. "She's sarky. Great! I don't get an interesting rich old guy who wants to tell me where his fortune is buried which could make us rich-no, I get a sarcastic girl with an attitude!"

"Sorry, Miss Fake-being dead will make you a little impatient!" Astrid admitted. Then she shook herself. "I need your help. You are literally the only person who can hear me-so I need you to go to the police and tell them how I was killed."

"Whoa, man-no cops!" Ruff said, slumping further down the couch.

"Look-they think my boyfriend killed me," Astrid said determinedly. "They've interrogated him and made him feel horrible. They aren't looking for anyone else…but I know he isn't guilty because I was there and I saw the guy who killed me."

"Whoa-you were murdered? Helheim, no!" Ruff said and turned the volume up. "I. AM. NOT. LISTENING!"

"I CAN SHOUT!" Astrid yelled into her ear and Ruff grabbed two cushions and pressed one to each ear.

"NOT! LISTENING!" she bellowed. Beside her, Tuff rolled his eyes.

"And I can't hear a Loki-damned thing!" he protested, turning the volume down. He poked Ruff in the chest. "Just talk to her already! Then we can get back to watching the Raiders…" Ruff lowered her cushions and stared at him.

"You believe me?" she asked in shock and he nodded simply.

"You're my twin-I can tell if you're lying, Butt-Elf!" he reminded her. "If you say you're hearing a dead person, you gotta be. Remember, I saw Mom in action as well-and she was as crazed as you are now!" But Ruff shook her head.

"I can't have this and not you, mutton-head!" she protested. "We're twins! We do everything together!" Tuff sighed and gently punched her in the shoulder.

"Ruff-only the girls in our family get the gift," he reminded her. "And I think you probably are a girl…just. I get a fifty-fifty chance of insanity."

"Already there," Ruff shot back with a wan smile. "But I am NOT going to the cops and turning in a murderer! Round here, that doesn't go down well. We may well end up murdered-like Great Uncle Duffnut? Remember him? They only found his nose…" Tuff adopted a thinking expression and then nodded.

"Yeah-isn't he in the Jotunheim Street bridge?" he recalled. Ruff nodded.

"Yeah-according to Mom," she admitted. "Beer please!"

"Look, I am not going until you promise to help me!" Astrid said sternly, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Gonna have a long wait!" Ruff grumbled as Tuff got up.

"Hey, I'm moving as fast as I can!" he protested while his sister rolled her eyes.

"Not you…oh, why am I even bothering?" she sighed, accepting the beer when offered. "Not listening to you, Miss Dead Astrid Hofferson. You can keep talking all night and I am NOT going to the cops…"

oOo

_"Well, I got my axe and I got my mace and I got a husband with an ugly face, I'm a Viking through and through…I'm a Viking through and through!"_ Astrid sang really badly. "I can go on all night-really…I know three whole verses. And I don't get out of breath or a sore throat…and I really haven't got anything better to do. In fact, I don't need sleep at all…"

"NOT! LISTENING!" Ruff whined, a pillow pressed to each ear as she writhed in her bed. Her twin was sleeping soundly in his bed next to hers, oblivious to her distress. The clock in the parlour had struck three some time ago and Astrid hadn't stopped singing since she refused to help.

_"Well…I got my axe and I got my bludgeon and a score of Outcasts locked in my dungeon, I'm a Viking through and through…I'm a Viking through and through…"_

"Have you no humanity?" Ruff wailed. "You've been doing this for about five hours!"

"An interesting metaphysical discussion," Astrid grinned. "Does a ghost have humanity? Technically, I am no longer human but something else entirely…"

"NOT! INTERESTED!"

_"Well, I got my axe and I got my mace…"_

"OKAY! I'LL DO IT!" Ruff screamed, throwing her pillows aside. "I'll do it. Just PLEASE shut up and let me sleep!" Astrid grinned.

"You go back on your word and I'll serenade you for ever!" she threatened. She knew she was a horrible singer.

"No, because being killed by the mob would be infinitely preferable," Ruff groaned. "Hel-I'd even mix the concrete for them to put me in a bridge by Great Uncle Duffnut! Just let me sleep! I'll do what you want in the morning."

Downstairs in the little parlour, the little clock chimed four as Tuffnut continued to snore through the racket. Ruff cast him a jaundiced look as she finally settled down in her bed. In the chair by the door, Astrid gave a satisfied smile.

"It's a deal," she said.


	8. Eight

**Eight.**

Yawning and stretching, Hiccup dragged himself to the door, wearily unlatching the chain and opening it…to see Heather looking up into his crumpled face. Emerald eyes snapped wide and he stumbled back a pace in shock.

"H-Heather?" he gasped, his voice gruff with sleep. She smiled up at him, seeing his eyes bleary with sleep, bed hair and morning scruff.

"Hiccup," she said clearly. "How are you?" He blinked and blushed slightly, acutely aware he was in rumpled pyjamas while Heather was neat in her black suit, white blouse and patent black leather heels, her jet hair in a braid over her left shoulder. The similarity to Astrid's favourite hair do stabbed him with pain at her absence once more.

"Um…surviving," he admitted, his voice clearer. "Sorry-would you like to come in? I'm making coffee…"

"And you know how I like a coffee," she smiled, walking in as he stood aside. He closed the door behind her and walked soundlessly after her, stepping over the sprawled sleeping Toothless and rolling his eyes before clicking the coffee machine on and loading in ground coffee. He scratched his chin and found two mugs-though he carefully avoided removing Milady from the cupboard. Heather sat at the table, her green eyes bright.

"To what do I owe this honour?" he asked, yawning as the black liquid bubbled into the jug. "I haven't seen you since the funeral." She sighed and stared at the table.

"Sorry," she said in a soft voice. "I-I just found coming here was so painful…because every time I've been here, it has been so…happy. I just picture Ast here, with you, just how she was meant to be." He didn't respond, mechanically sloshing coffee into the cups and adding cream and sugar to his and a tiny dash of milk to Heather's. Sitting opposite to her, he placed the mugs down and took a long swig of the steaming fluid, giving a sigh of relief.

"So why now?" he asked her, taking another long drink. She shrugged, sipping her own coffee.

"I wondered if you wanted a hand sorting through Astrid's stuff," she offered. His eyes widened and then he shook his head automatically.

"Thanks but…no," he replied, gently placing his mug down. Automatically, he glanced to the photo of Astrid, this time a picture of her hugging Toothless, her smile lighting the image. "I-it's too soon," he said lamely, not meeting her eye. She leaned forward.

"That's okay-I haven't touched her desk at work," she revealed. "I can't…because that would confirm she wasn't coming back…" He nodded, sipping his coffee.

"I know what you mean," he mumbled, sitting back. "Sometimes, I'm okay and then I see or hear or-Thor help me-I just think of something and suddenly, it hits me again, full force. And it hurts, Heather. It's like part of me has been ripped away and I am constantly aware of the ache…" He shrugged. "It's like missing a limb…you're always aware it's gone and it limits what you can do all the time…and sometimes, it jabs excruciating pain, reminding you of what you've lost." She reached across, her hand gently landing on his.

"Just…call, if you need to talk," she reminded him. "She was my best friend as well-and I really miss her. Just being here makes her feel closer, you know?" His emerald eyes flicked up and he offered a wan smile.

"Thanks, Heather," he murmured. She squeezed his hand.

"I need to ask you something," she said after a pause. He nodded. "You know the account access codes?" He arched an eyebrow. "I need them. We're due to make some payouts to investors and I can't release the money. Only Astrid had access to the Prime Business Holding Account." Hiccup sighed.

"Astrid had the codes all in her head," he admitted. "She was brilliant with figures. She kept back-up details in her little blue diary." He sighed. "You can look in her office, if you want?" She nodded and flashed a brilliant smile.

"Thanks, Hiccup," she said in a relieved tone and stood. Then she paused. "Are you taking me up?" He nodded and rose, following her as she walked ahead of him up the steps, her hips swinging as she walked. Pausing partway up, she smirked at him. "Like anything you see?" she purred and he flinched, wondering what she was doing. Then she sped ahead, pausing to wait as he trudged up the stairs and walked to the door. Then she paused, her eyes wide. "Could you…?" she asked him and he reached over, opening the door. Quietly, he walked past her and in, peering at the meticulously neat desk, the pen aligned with the side of the papers, the little image of the lovers framed in plain pine the only decoration on the work-space. He quietly walked to the desk and gently stroked the image of Astrid.

Heather gently nudged him and began to rifle through the papers, searching the drawers thoroughly and then huffing in exasperation.

"Nothing here," she muttered. "Where is it? Where has she put it?" Hiccup stared at her.

"What is it?" he asked gently. "Can I help?" She glanced up into his concerned eyes-and flung herself against him, sobbing softly. Shocked and momentarily frozen, he warily wrapped his arms loosely around her and gently patted her on the back. "Um…Heather…? Are you okay?" he asked warily. There was a pause and she sniffed, hugging him closer.

"It's just so sad," she mumbled, her voice mumbled by her contact with his tee-shirt. "And-and I don't want to ruin her company because I can't access the funds…" She lifted her face and swiped her eyes. "If you find anything-please let me know, okay?"

"Um…yeah?" he said warily as she abruptly lunged forward and pressed a firm kiss on his lips, her eyes closing and arms winding around his neck. He went rigid, his eyes snapping wide open and he urgently pushed her away. "Heather-please!" he said desperately. "I-I don't…"

"Oh Hiccup-you can't give up on life," she murmured. "It's not what Astrid would have wanted…" He pushed her back more determinedly, looking shocked and completely stunned.

"Um…I'm good, thanks," he gabbled, totally discomposed. What the Hel? And he almost sighed with relief as the doorbell rang and he pulled away from her, almost racing through the door. "Gotta get that!" he said and ran down the stairs. He wrenched the door open and gave a huge sigh of relief. "DAD! Oh, I'm so pleased to see you!" he exclaimed as Heather elegantly walked down the stairs, a small smirk of her face. Following his father's surprised and mildly disapproving gaze, Hiccup blushed and then turned back to face the huge man, gesturing wildly to the jet-haired woman. "Um-you remember Heather? Astrid's friend? She-she came here to ask something about the business…"

"And to check how you are," she said sincerely. "Good to see you again, Mr Haddock. I should be going, Hiccup. Busy, busy! I've still got Astrid's company to run." She pressed a quick platonic kiss on his cheek and swung away. Stoick watched her leave before he walked in, staring very disapprovingly at his dishevelled son, clearly just from bed and the beautiful, jet-haired woman who had walked out of his home.

"Son?" he asked gruffly, "what was that?" Hiccup waved his arms wildly.

"I really have NO idea!" he exclaimed. "I mean, she comes here to check on me then she wants to see Astrid's office and then she's all over me!"

"Of course, I have nothing against you moving on, son, but don't you think it's a little soon?" he asked cautiously, sitting on a chair that creaked alarmingly and grabbing Hiccup's coffee. The young man rolled his eyes and poured two fresh mugs, rescuing the remains of his previous coffee and tidying them away then sitting in the chair Heather had vacated.

"I am _not_ moving on," Hiccup said in a low voice. "Thor, I'm not sure I'll _ever_ be ready to move on! And certainly not with Heather! I mean…she never really approved of me because I distracted her perfect, ruthless, business-orientated friend and turned her into a happy, domestic…person! She's not my type. Ever. At all. Totally…" His father sighed.

"While I know the feeling, I truly hope you do eventually move on, because I hate the idea of my boy being wedded to grief for the rest of his life without even the comfort of a son to help him through," he sighed. "When your Mom passed, I had you to remind me of her and keep her alive for me. What do you have?"

Hiccup closed his eyes. "Toothless and my memories," he said softly. "And I have to pray that's enough because there is no one else for me."

oOo

The taxi pulled up outside the house as Heather's car pulled away. Astrid peered through the window and frowned.

"What's she doing here?" she murmured, surprised. It had been the longest she had been away from Hiccup since she had died and she was disappointed that she had missed her best friend's visit…but what she was doing was more important. But beside her, Ruff was gaping at the house.

"Hey-you didn't say you were rich!" she said accusingly to the ghost and Astrid smirked.

"I'm just very skilled at investing wisely," she said smugly. Ruff reluctantly handed over the taxi fare and clambered out, Astrid beside her. The ghost peered at the limousine parked on the drive with the solid shape of Gobber sitting at the wheel reading 'Viking Monthly' in the driver's seat. "Hmm, Stoick is here?"

"Who?" Ruff asked, peering around. This was a very nice neighbourhood and she felt immensely underdressed in her khaki combat pants, white tee-shirt and combat jacket and boots.

"Hiccup's father, a financial heavyweight," Astrid explained, heading towards the steps to the front door. "Come on." Ruff paused, then huffed and followed.

"You know financial heavyweights and we're friends with Mulch from Sven's Viking Pizzeria," she grumped. "He's not going to believe me, you know?"

"If you say exactly what I tell you, you'll be fine," Astrid assured her as Ruff rang the bell and waited. There was a pause and a shape approached, then opened the door. Ruffnut stared up into the tall, lean shape with casually tousled dark auburn hair, pale stubbly face and bright emerald green eyes, dressed in a tee-shirt and loose green leggings. Ruff gave a slow smile.

"Grr. You didn't say he was one hot tomali!" she murmured. Astrid stared at her and felt jealousy rising in her chest.

"Hey-don't get any funny ideas!" she warned the spiritualist. Ruff smirked.

"What? I can look!" she shot back. "Besides, you're already dead!" Hiccup frowned.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" he asked and Ruff gave her unsettling smile.

"No," she said, "but I need to speak to you. You're the boyfriend of that girl who got murdered in the park?" Astrid saw him stiffen and the pain darken his emerald eyes. He nodded. "I have information about her death. May I come in?" He paused and seemed to be debating silently-and then he sighed and nodded, stepping back to let her in. Astrid walked ahead, groaning as she saw Stoick. She was very fond of the man but he was sharp as a tack and would see through any embellishments Ruff attempted.

"Listen carefully," she hissed to the female twin. "His father is here and he is impossible to get anything by. Don't exaggerate-just say exactly what I say."

"C'mon…what's the fun in that?" she whispered as she was directed to sit in the chair while Hiccup settled uneasily by an enormous mountain of a main with huge fiery red beard and cool grey-green eyes. His expression was incredibly stern and Astrid knew the financier would be extremely protective of his grieving and vulnerable son-as Astrid herself was. She just wished she could reassure him that she meant no harm. Hiccup looked at her, his gaze level and wary.

"Okay-who are you?" he asked directly and Ruff shrugged.

"I'd be suspicious in your shoes," she said honestly. "My name is Ruffnut Thorston and I'm here because I was a witness to the murder…" Hiccup gasped and his eyes widened. He had paled and his father kindly rested a hand on his shoulder. The older man leaned slightly forward.

"Then why didn't you come forward?" he growled. Ruff scowled back at him.

"I was scared, okay?" she retorted. "Look, this guy tried to rob people with a gun in his hand, meaning he's pretty dangerous. And my Great Uncle Duffnut turned in a murderer and ended up as part of the Jotunheim Street Bridge! I didn't want to end up entombed in concrete!" Hiccup stared at her: there was enough honesty in her words to attract his attention.

"So why now?" he asked her and she huffed.

"My conscience," she huffed. "Wouldn't let me rest. Because I saw the newspaper article in the Terror Mail and they mentioned the police had spoken to you. But I know there was someone else there." Stoick shared a look with his son.

"Did you see him?" he asked urgently. She nodded.

"Buff guy, about five foot ten, short carrot red hair and green eyes," Astrid said.

"Buff guy, five ten with bright red hair and green eyes," Ruff reported.

"And he had a tattoo like three claw marks over his left eye in blue," Astrid murmured thoughtfully. Ruff frowned and then sighed.

"He had three blue claw marks tattooed over his left eye," she added.

"He grabbed my purse and I fought. He shot me without hesitation and ran off…" Astrid murmured, a chill running through her. Ruff looked in the direction of the voice.

"I saw him ambush your friend, Astrid, and grab her purse. She began to fight and he shot her immediately and then run off into the park. I hid behind the bushes until he was gone and then I ran for it."

Hiccup stared at her and his eyes shone with sudden grief at the reminder of that horrific day. Instantly Toothless was on his feet, walking up to press against his leg. Astrid smiled at him.

"It's okay, boy. I'm here. Good boy!" she said to him and was rewarded by an eager wag of the tail. Hiccup hugged the black dog-and then looked suspiciously at the blonde stranger.

"He's not normally that great with strangers," he admitted. "Does he know you?" Ruff shrugged, having heard Astrid's words to the dog and guessed that the animal could see her.

"What can I say? I'm good with animals," she admitted. Stoick stared at her.

"Are you willing to tell the police what you saw?" he asked. Ruff opened her mouth to protest but Astrid leaned close to her ear.

_"I've got my axe and I've got my mace…"_

"Hel, yeah!" the spiritualist said swiftly. "Look-this guy is dangerous and it's not fair you being suspected when I know you didn't do it!" Hiccup looked at her, the gratitude in his eyes making Astrid sigh. She walked forward and ghosted a kiss on his forehead.

"Trust me, babe," she whispered as he reached for the phone and dialled.

"Hello, police?" he said. "Can I speak to officers Mala and Throk? This is Hiccup Haddock. I have found a witness to my girlfriend, Astrid Hofferson's murder…"

oOo

At his huge mahogany desk in his office at Haddock Corp, Stoick Haddock scratched his beard and frowned. Hiccup had been given hope by the appearance of the young blonde woman, Ruffnut Thorston, because her testimony to the police had provided his son with an alibi.

But the woman's explanation as to why she only came forward now concerned Stoick. She didn't look like a good citizen and it was his job to ensure that some lowlife didn't seek to blackmail or profit from his son's vulnerability. Because the article she had referenced in the Terror Mail Newspaper prominently mentioned the fact that Astrid's lover was the son of prominent financier Stoick Haddock-and thus was well able to pay any blackmail. And as Ruffnut Thorston was the only witness who had come forward to remove his son from being prime suspect in Astrid's murder, she was in a prime position to hold him to ransom…

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His suspicion about people was a trait he shared with Astrid, who had been an impressive and pragmatic woman who plainly loved his son and would protect him against any gold-digger. Now she was gone, he had to resume the burden he had hoped she would continue in his declining years and after his death. He loved Hiccup dearly but the young man was a very different man to him-a kind, gentle, trusting man who lived for his art and was heart-broken by the loss of the woman he loved. His thick fingers stabbed at the buttons on his phone and he hated himself for what he was about to himself.

" _Eretson Investigations?_ "

"Eret-it's Stoick Haddock," the financier said grimly.

_"Sir, my condolences on your recent loss,_ " the PI said in his clear, British accent. " _How can I help you?"_

"There is a woman, Ruffnut Thorston, who claimed to witness the murder," Stoick said. "Find out everything about this woman. I don't want any surprises."

oOo

Hiccup looked up, his emerald eyes shocked.

"Is this true?" he asked, his voice toneless. Stoick nodded heavily.

"I'm sorry, son," he said quietly. "I put my best man on it…because I was worried this was why she was here." Hiccup flipped up a mugshot of Ruffnut-alongside her twin brother Tuffnut-with an impressive rap sheet.

"Fraud, false representation, petty theft, shoplifting, conning old woman out of money…" he said and sighed.

"Son of a half-troll!" Astrid snapped. "And she couldn't have mentioned she was a professional liar?"

Toothless whined in response and the woman rolled her eyes.

"Yeah-but what choice did I really have?" she admitted. "But it means she has zip credibility and less worth as a witness. Thor, I may just have made things worse for him!"

"Do the cops know?" the young man asked worriedly, folding his legs under him as he sat, cross-legged on the couch. Stoick nodded.

"I disclosed immediately-even though they could have found out themselves from their database. I am hoping they appreciate our transparency," he commented but Astrid recalled Mala and Throk's hostility.

"I bet," she grumbled. Hiccup patted the couch by him and the mutt bounced up and sat at his side so the sculptor could wrap his arm around his pet.

"So what do we do?" he asked. Stoick sighed.

"You can call her or go see her?" the young man asked and his father sighed as Astrid sat on the chair, her arms folded.

"I'm going to see her," she growled.

"Let's go see her," Hiccup said, rising suddenly to his feet and heading for the coat stand. "I want to look her in the eye as I asked her what she's doing!" Stoick rose as well.

"I'll drive you, son," the financier said shortly. "I don't trust this woman and want to make sure…" Hiccup turned to him, emerald eyes glittering.

"I'm not a small child, Dad!" he said bitterly. "I mean yeah, I'm no financier and I'm a poor artist with a dead girlfriend, being suspected of her murder and being taken for a ride by a con woman but I can take care of myself!" Stoick sighed and raised his hands appeasingly.

"Son, I never meant to offend you," he said quickly. "You are a Haddock! But you are my son and I love you and worry about you. This woman lives in the worst possible part of town. The least you can do is let your over-protective father make sure you get there and back safely!" Hiccup stared up at him, then smiled.

"Thanks, Dad," he said honestly, allowing the big man to hug him. No matter how much Stoick pushed his son, the young man was never in doubt that his father loved him dearly. "I'm glad you're here!" Stoick smiled and hugged him tightly.

"No matter that I didn't agree with your choices, son, I still love you and will do everything I can to protect you and see you happy." Hiccup sighed at his words.

"If you could bring Astrid back, that would make me happy," he said.

The drive to Ruffnut's neighbourhood in Stoick's limousine with Gobber driving was silent as Hiccup stared out of the window and watched the buildings blur by. Honestly, he was feeling a chaotic mix of emotions-and for once, his grief for Astrid wasn't uppermost. He felt angry that he had been duped, ashamed that he had fallen for the con-woman's story and betrayed that the story wasn't true. And still afraid because he was certain the detectives would think he put the woman up to making a false report to try to divert suspicion from him.

"Gods, they really see me coming, don't they?" he murmured, sitting back in his seat and pulling his long coat tighter around his lean shape. The green scarf she had given him was tucked warmly around his throat and his scruffy converse were the only clue to the incredibly casual clothes he was wearing.

"No, babe," Astrid sighed, sitting next to him. "You're a decent man and what she says is true…she's just not the one who saw it…"

"You were always going to be a target for con men and women," Stoick admitted as the limousine turned and glided past Fungus's Bar. "Are you sure you want to go in on your own?" Hiccup nodded, his face determined.

"This is something I have to do, Dad," he said quietly as they pulled up outside Thorston Spiritualists. The young sculptor stared up at the signs and his heart sank: he shared Astrid's reservations about such establishments. He shook his head as he slammed the door of the car and headed into the shop. Tuff looked up from the desk in the waiting room.

"Can I help you?" he asked. "Who are you hoping to speak to?"

"Your sister!" Hiccup growled. "Get her-now!" Tuff frowned.

"Does she owe you money?" he asked urgently. "Because we've almost got the rent and…"

"My name is Hiccup Haddock!" the sculptor said and glared at him. Tuff looked nervously at him, his eyes flicking to the door. "Thanks," he added and strode to the door, shoving it open and striding in.

"Wait-you can't go in there!" the male twin protested, going after him. But Hiccup had scanned the parlour and noted the only other door so he wrenched it open and burst into the kitchen diner-to find Ruff eating noodles from a box. Her eyes widened and she dropped her chopsticks.

"Ah…" she said in shock. "I can explain…"

"Don't bother," Hiccup said tightly. "I know all about you."

"Really?" The tone was wary.

"Yeah, he's seen your rap sheet!" Astrid added.

"You're a con woman!" Hiccup accused her and she rose, opening her mouth to protest…but realising that him finding her at their business probably wouldn't convince him.

"In the past," she confessed, "but not in this!"

"I don't believe you!" Hiccup accused her "You weren't there, were you?"

"No."

"Oh Thor, you had to blow it," Astrid grumped.

"No, I had to tell the truth!" Ruffnut hissed in the direction of the ghost. Hiccup's emerald eyes narrowed and he looked at her suspiciously.

"Is this some other con?" he accused her and her head snapped round to him.

"Wish it was" she sighed. "Look-I wasn't there-but I got the information from someone who was. Someone who can't come forward and give testimony."

"Who? Some other con artist or professional liar?" he snapped.

"Burn," Astrid murmured.

"No!" Ruff growled. "I'm a spiritualist, a medium. And I am unexpectedly good. The witness-was Astrid Hofferson!"

Hiccup stumbled back, eyes wide and face stricken. He stared at her with shock and loathing, sickened by her callous words.

"Astrid…is dead…" he choked out, breathing hard.

"Yeah-and I speak to the dead," Ruff tried to explain. "I'm not a fake! Not in this, at least!" But Hiccup-shocked, hurt beyond words and heartbroken-shook his head.

"Stay the Hel away from me," he said gruffly. "Or I will get the cops to arrest you for perjury and perverting the course of justice!" Then he shoved past Tuff and almost ran from the shop. Tuff stared after him.

"Business is really going downhill," he muttered as Ruff collapsed onto the couch.

"And you couldn't have say mentioned your criminal past or total lack of credibility?" Astrid snapped.

"Not you too?" Ruff groaned. "What part of this set-up and job-would make you think I _wasn't_ a con artist?" She gestured to the parlour. "Until you turned up, my entire job was conning desperate and sad old ladies who missed their dead husbands or occasionally children. And I sort of made them happy for a bit. But now, thanks to you, I end up trying to help someone out and get threatened by your boyfriend-who is even hotter when he's angry…seriously, I can really see what you saw in him-and the cops who have already told me they don't believe my testimony! So I've done everything you asked and all I'm getting is grief from all sides."

"But the killer is still out there!" Astrid shouted. Ruff leapt to her feet.

"Yeah-and I don't intend to be his next victim!" she retorted. "I've done my part and everything you asked. So that's it! Leave me the Hel alone! Go and take your suspicions and your hot but untrusting boyfriend and stick them where…" Astrid glared at her.

"You know, you have an amazing ability," she said scornfully. "You could really help a lot of people-alive and dead-get some closure. But instead you just look out for yourselves and cheat and lie." She shook her head. "Take it from someone whose life was stolen from them far too soon-it's never too late to make a difference and do what you could for someone else!"

"Yeah-well if I help you any more, I may well end up without a life as well!" Ruff shouted as Astrid walked through the walls into the parlour, into the waiting room and out onto the street, fuming at the failure of her plan. The limousine and Hiccup had already gone and she was faced with a long walk back to the house. But for now, it was a relief so she could try to clear her head. She had found someone who could hear her-but Hiccup would never trust her and anything she said. She had no idea what she could do now to find her killer and protect her lover.

In fact she was so distracted she almost walked through a man who was making his urgent way down the sidewalk into a nondescript unmarked store. She automatically opened her mouth to apologise, even though she knew he would never hear her…

…and looked straight into the face of her murderer.


	9. Nine

**Nine.**

Astrid froze as the man walked on, oblivious of her presence and she slowly turned to see the buff shape reach the barred door of the unmarked store and rap on the door with his fist. Shaking herself, she raced after him as the door opened to admit him and burst through the door, leaping through the closing portal and landing in a gloomy corridor with peeling plaster and a flickering strip light. The murderer was walking unselfconsciously along until he arrived at a heavily armoured door, guarded by two large men in brown leather.

"The Boss will see you straight away," the man to the left growled and opened the door, allowing the murderer in. Astrid followed, hanging back as the man came to stand cockily on front of a desk, behind which sat a muscular man with close-cropped dark hair, deep brown eyes and a neat beard. He was dressed elegantly in black, his face frighteningly intelligent. At his shoulder stood a taller and much buffer man with very similar features, a shaven head and a stripe of a beard on his large chin. He was dressed in fawn and deep brown leather. The murderer gave a small laugh.

"Viggo!" he said in a sing-song voice. "Good to see you."

"Dagur," the man said in a cultured voice, "why are we repeating this encounter when we have been over this many times previously?"

"Because I really do have the money this time," the murderer revealed. The man in the chair-Viggo-flicked a page on his desk nonchalantly. Plain strip lights illuminated the space with a bare concrete floor and plain plaster walls. There were a few reddish-brown stains on the floor that looked like dried blood and Astrid suspected that they probably were.

"So you have all five hundred and seventy-three thousand, six hundred and twenty-nine dollars and eighty-one cents?" he asked pointedly. The murderer-whose name apparently was Dagur-gaped.

"Viggo-I'm sure my gambling debts were only three hundred odd thousand…" he protested. The larger man standing at Viggo's shoulder leaned forward.

"Interest," he growled. "You do understand I am a businessman, Dagur? I cannot have men use my facilities, accrue very substantial gaming debts and then fail to repay me. If I permitted you to get away without addressing your debts, what incentive would there be for others to honour their own obligations?" The murderer scowled, his fists tightening.

"I have obtained the means to give you the money," Dagur said tightly. "You'll get it, Viggo. And you, Ryker-keep away until I've finished. I don't need you trampling in and ruining my plans!" Viggo stared at him remotely and nodded.

"You have one week," he said. "After that, I will regrettably be compelled to demonstrate to you and my other clients what happens when you cheat Viggo Grimborn!" The murderer curled his lips.

"You'll get your money," he hissed and turned to the door. He stalked out, slamming the door closed and marching up the corridor before bursting out onto the grubby street. His face was locked in a ferocious scowl, his fists clenched tight as he stalked along the sidewalk, barging others aside in his rage. "Who the Helheim does he think he is?" the man growled. "Interest! It's just theft by another means and…"

His cell rang and he snatched it from his pocket. "Yeah?" he snapped then listened. "No, not well. I'll explain when you get home!" He abruptly ended the call. Frowning, Astrid tailed him at the distance of a couple of yards, dodging people on the street and walking fearlessly through a dark and dank alley, unafraid of the scritter of rats and creak of rotting fire-escapes because she was, as Ruff had pointed out, already dead. A hobo lurched out at Dagur, trying to wrestle him to the ground and rob him but the buff man flicked a knife out immediately, slamming it directly into the man's heart. The homeless man's bloodshot eyes widened in terminal shock and then he gasped and went limp, his spirit leaving even as the man lowered him into his space and rolled his body onto his side, so no one would see the stab wound.

Astrid backed away as the spirit looked around in shock and anger, trying to strike out at Dagur who was cleaning his knife on the dead man's ragged jacket. The dead man stared at her in shock.

"Didn't see yer there," he muttered and made to lunge at her…when the finest of moans sounded. He looked around and Astrid's eyes widened.

_But a few bad souls…well, the others come for them. They're dark and flow and are terrifying…and no one ever escapes…_

The dead hobo realised something was wrong as well as darkness coalesced around him, flowing like black sand. He tried to wrestle it off, to pull away as Astrid's azure eyes widened in sorrow and sympathy.

"Help me!" the man begged. And though she knew he must've lived a bad life to deserve this, she still found herself mouthing 'I'm sorry,' to the doomed spirit. Writhing, screaming and begging, the man was dragged by horrific shapes composed of black sand, their groaning cries filling the alley as the spirit was dragged away into the darkest corner of the alley by the black sand demons…and then he was gone.

Shivering and filled with a cold that she thought she couldn't feel, she ran after the murderer. Dagur had casually and without thought murdered the homeless man. She had to stop him.

She caught him as he entered a door at the back of the Korean market and raced up a long flight of stairs to a tiny apartment just under the roof. He sped into his home and she walked through the door, pausing to peer around the pace. There was a bed, a couple of chairs by the small cooker and a TV resting on a set of drawers at the end of the bed. Dagur ripped his jacket off and threw himself onto his bed, folding one arm behind the head-and the other snagging a small items that Astrid recognised as her pocket diary from her purse. Enraged, she grabbed at the diary-but her hand swished through. Again and again she grabbed as the man flipped through it.

"Can't see what she wants in this," he muttered, "but she's the clever one. I mean, I would never know how to get the money but she's got the whole thing planned…"

"You killed me for that?" she shouted. She swiped again and her hand went through her diary. "At least I have a name now-and an address. And I will find some way of making you face justice! You have Astrid Hofferson's word on that, you bastard!" Fuming and frustrated, she stalked through the door, memorising the number and address of the apartment before she sped down and into the street, heading back towards the alley…and then she froze. There was a familiar shape walking down the street, looking immensely out of place in the poor and dilapidated surroundings.

"Heather?" Astrid murmured, stopping by her friend and staring at her. "What are you doing here?" Heather peered past the ghost and walked straight on, heading for the Korean market-and then pulling the little side door open and entering the building. "Heather?"

She couldn't help it: she followed, worried about the safety of her friend in the building with the man who had murdered her. The strangeness of it all struck her-but nothing had prepared her for the overwhelming sensation of betrayal as she arrived at the door of the murderer-and rapped sharply. And even more so when the door opened and the murderer's face twisted into a smile.

"Hello, sister," said Dagur.

Astrid reeled, feeling as if her heart had plummeted to her stomach and as if she had been winded-even though she no longer breathed. Heather knew the man who killed her and that meant…

Heather walked in and held her hand out.

"Where is it?" she asked directly.

"Ooh-no kiss for your loving brother?" he said sarcastically.

"You were only supposed to grab her purse and run off," Heather snapped. "Why did you have to kill her?" Astrid stared at her in shock, not believing what her ears were hearing. Heather was her best friend, her closest confidante…she trusted Heather completely.

_And Heather had betrayed her._

"She fought," Dagur told her, leaning forward and filching a can of beer from the tiny fridge. "What can I say? I never allow anyone to fight me. I have impulse control issues!"

"You promised!" Heather accused him angrily, not intimidated when he turned on her, his face a menacing mask.

"If you weren't my sister…" he began.

"…you'd already be dead at the hand of Viggo's enforcers," she reminded him harshly. "Three hundred and eight-three thousand dollars worth of gambling debts? Are you insane?"

"Duh!" the murderer scorned her. "I thought we'd already determined I am a psychopath! Both our parents realised that…well, before I shot them…" Heather rolled her eyes.

"You're the only family I have and you know I will do anything to help you-but you were not supposed to kill Astrid!" she snapped. "She was my friend." Dagur shrugged and wandered to the bed, picking up the little diary and handing it over.

"Not any more," he commented easily. Sighing in relief, Heather thumbed the little book open.

"Thank Thor," she sighed. "The access codes to the account. There may be enough in there with what I have to just cover the three eighty-three…" Dagur gave a low chuckle as he slumped on a seat.

"Actually, five seventy three and change," he admitted with a shrug and chugged most of the can. "Interest."

"Are you serious? Are you SERIOUS?" Heather shrieked in shock. "I'm already embezzling all of the firm's business account, spending all my savings-what I have left from after bailing you out from your debts in Berserk-and have become an accomplice in the murder of my best friend…and you're telling me that isn't going to be enough?"

"Nope!" Dagur said carelessly and got up to grab himself another beer. "Want one?"

"Of course I don't!" she snapped. "Odin's beard! Dagur-there isn't any more money! That is everything!" But her brother's pale green eyes narrowed and he bent down, picking up a tiny square of paper that had fallen from the diary. Cold eyes peered at the little image: a photo booth picture of Astrid and Hiccup, clinched close together, grinning and clearly deliriously happy.

"Who's the guy?" he asked with a frown. Heather peeked and made to snatch the picture away, but he deftly kept it from her grasp.

"Astrid's boyfriend, Hiccup Haddock," Heather said. "But you can't…"

"Has he got any money?" the murderer asked. "Or maybe you want to go to another funeral. You were most convincing, crying at hers…" Heather marched up to him, her fists balled and face furious.

"I was crying! She was my best friend-and I felt so guilty because my idiot psychopathic brother killed her when all he was supposed to do was snatch her purse so I could bail you out of your gambling debts…" Heather snarled.

He was at my funeral? Astrid thought, shocked and curiously disturbed. He was there, watching what he had caused, all that grief and pain…and he was just spectating.

"Haddock? As in that financial guy your firm was dealing with?" Dagur pressed and Heather nodded.

"His son. He's an artist, a sculptor and potter," Heather said defensively.

"Damned right-he's completely innocent in this and if you hurt him, Heather…" Astrid growled. There was a sudden rattle of the window and both siblings looked up.

"Subway," Dagur said dismissively. "We're over the Nordstrom line here…" He pushed Heather back, a hand clamping on her shoulder. "We need that money within seven days or I am dead, sis. So do you think his father will pay for his son?" Heather looked at him in shock.

"You have to promise not to hurt him-or I will leave you to Viggo and Ryker," she said in a low voice.

"Oh-no, NO!" Astrid shouted. "You can't do this! Heather-you were my friend. I trusted you I trusted you! You can't do this to him now! Please…"

"No point killing him until I get the ransom," Dagur growled. "These negotiators are getting too clever by half. They keep wanting proof of life…"

"NO KILLING!" Heather snapped at him.

"You're not going along with this?" Astrid exclaimed, backing away. "I can't believe…"

"You know I never really mean to…" Dagur protested in a singsong voice but his sister slapped his face.

"Focus!" she growled. "You cannot kill him. I can't lose you, Dagur-but Hiccup doesn't deserve to die. Just…be careful. And if there's a problem-run WITHOUT shooting!"

"Where's the fun in that…?" Dagur whined petulantly and his sister glared at him.

"Look-I'll tip you off-and then we can apparently 'receive' the ransom request from you at the office," she said coldly. "Stoick will easily pay a quarter of a million for his son. And then you return him safe and sound…" Dagur gave a cruel smile.

"Maybe…" he said.

Astrid couldn't take any more. The bottom had fallen from her world: her supposed best friend had in fact set up the robbery-well, who else knew exactly where and when Astrid would be meeting Hiccup to romantically declare her love of him except her best friend? The best friend who had finally talked Astrid into acknowledging her own feelings and deciding to declare her love and say those three words. It was Heather's own brother who had killed Astrid and Heather was protecting him. She had been killed so Heather could embezzle the firm funds to save her brother from being killed for his gambling debts.

_And you never came to me, Astrid thought, heart-broken. I said you could come to me for anything. I would help you with anything. Had you, I would have lent you the money. I would have helped out. Money can be replaced-people never can…_

And, desolate, she walked through the wall and slowly down the stairs, not waiting to finish listening to the conversation. Well, she had heard all she could stomach-and then as she reached the street, another problem hit her. She had no way to warn Hiccup, no way to protect him…no hope of keeping him safe.

Except by being with him, she guessed and desperately began to walk back towards the house. But her heart grew heavier with every step and by the time she got back to the home she had shared with Hiccup, she felt utterly despondent and hopeless. The lights were on and she walked through the door, seeing Toothless resting on his dog bed on the main landing. She could hear the wheel running up in the studio and she knew that Hiccup was working. But before she went up to be with him-because after the horrible revelations of the day, she really really wanted to just be with him-preferably safe in his arms-she crouched down before the black mutt.

"Toothless," she said gently and the bright green eyes opened, ears pricking. "I need you to do something for me." There was the thump as the feathery tail hit the floor. "I'll take that as a 'go on'," she added with a smile, trying to tousle the dog's ears. "There is a very bad man out there who is after Hiccup," she sighed. "He's Heather's brother. And she's not a friend either now. The bad man wants to kidnap Hiccup-maybe hurt him. I want you to protect Hiccup, okay? When I can't do it, look after Hiccup and protect him for me, okay?"

The dog whined, his tail wagging and tongue hanging to as he gave his doggy smile. She wrapped a ghostly hug around him and closed her eyes in gratitude.

"Thanks, Toothless," she said gently. "I know I can rely on you to keep him safe…because you're the only one who loves him as much as I do."


	10. Ten

**Ten.**

Lying on the bed beside Hiccup, Astrid spent the night staring at the man she loved, listening to him breathe. It was the little things that she missed: the tickle of his warm breath on her neck as he nuzzled her, the possessive wrap of an arm around her after they had made love, the scratch of his scruff in the morning, his scent filling her nostrils as she woke. She could hear and see but the other senses, those that gave depth and meaning were absent. But her memory of him kept her warm and protective as she watched him sleep and worried about the threat to him that Heather and Dagur posed.

_And there was no one she could tell who would believe her._

In the small hours, when Hiccup was snoring softly, she walked up to the studio and peered at his work over the last days since her death. He had been a man possessed, sculpting as if his life depended on it-and now Stormfly wasn't alone, for an entire herd of hand-sized dragons kept her company. Her constant companion was a perfectly moulded Night Fury, painted in black with the lightest of grey highlights, his emerald green eyes mirroring those of his creator. A Monstrous Nightmare, Zippleback, Gronckle, Rumblehorn, Razorwhip, Triple Stryke, Snow Wraith, Skrill, Flightmare, Terrible Terror, Night Terror, Scauldron, Hotburple, Deathsong and Thunderdrum were all perfectly formed, glazed and ranged on the shelves above Astrid's Stormfly and her Night Fury companion. There were also more vases with draconic motifs or shaped in wilting, sad shapes and mournful colours and the bust of Astrid was complete. And two models of Toothless-alert and bright and asleep-were waiting to be glazed.

She stared at the work and sighed. Hiccup was so talented, so creative and so stubborn that he never gave up on a project once he had started. It was clear that the idea of a suite of dragons had come to him once he had seen her clumsy effort and he had executed it brilliantly, immersing himself in his work to avoid the pain of her absence. Or maybe the act of creation helped him by balancing out the destruction that had taken her from him.

She couldn't let Heather and her brother use him to help them because she knew Dagur would kill Hiccup once the ransom was paid. So she walked silently down to the bedroom, walking in without paying attention and laying down again.

"I do love you," she murmured softly. "And I will do anything…risk anything…to protect you. If only I knew how…"

oOo

There was one last thing she could try as she walked back to the bedroom, seeing him restless and dreaming, one last crazy way she could try to comfort him…though she had no clue how she could do this.

_He'll sense you-and others can as well: animals, the dying, those in comas, maybe some in that nether world between sleep and awake, some spiritualists…_

"Astrid…" he moaned. "No…it should have been me…"

Her heart broke at those words. The pain and guilt in his words broke her heart as she concentrated on not phasing through the bed, leaning close to him so their lips were almost touching, her hands on the side of his head.

_I won't let you blame yourself. I won't let you suffer for what Heather and her brother did to us._

"Hiccup," she said softly, exerting all her concentration. "Listen to me. I know you can hear me, somehow. I know it won't be conscious but maybe in your dream, you can see me once again. I'm with you, babe. I'll always be with you. And I trust you. I know you are strong enough to go on. To become the brilliant famous sculptor I always knew you would be. To use my legacy to help others and build those dreams we never had a chance to do together."

The furrow in his brow smoothed and his lips tilted slightly into a smile.

"Milady…" he murmured.

"I love you, Hiccup," she murmured, feeling as if her head was exploding with the effort of concentration. But it seemed to be working. "I should have said it so many times, my love. Please forgive me. I love you."

"Love…you…" he mumbled, a tear sliding down his cheek. She pressed the ghost of her lips against his.

"Take care, my love," she whispered as he relaxed, his breathing quieting. "And sleep well."

oOo

"Okay, bud-we're going out today," Hiccup announced as he bounced downstairs. He had been up bright and alert-unlike his usual exhausted self, because he really wasn't a morning person-and had showered, shaved and changed into decent black jeans, boots, green tee-shirt under his favourite dark red shirt and copper and red waistcoat. The mutt raised his head tiredly-and then bounded up, tongue hanging out and tail wagging eagerly. Smiling, the young man fussed his friend happily.

"What are you planning, sculptor-boy?" Astrid murmured, following him with a suspicious look. He cheerily fed Toothless and polished off two coffees, pancakes, maple syrup and bacon and then rose.

"Right, bud," he murmured. "The police aren't going to look for the person who killed Astrid-so I've got to. And though that woman was a fake, it is possible someone did see something-so I need to check myself. But I need to see Heather first-because I want to know if anyone had any reason to harm Astrid. She was Astrid's best friend and business partner so if anyone knows, she will."

Astrid stared in horror. "No, she won't!" she said urgently. "Hiccup-you have to stay away from her. Toothless-don't let him go out!" But the dog whined, knowing it was pointless to stop Hiccup when he was determined: he was fully the equal of Astrid for stubbornness.

"If you don't want to, I can always leave you behind, bud," he commented, slipping the dog the last slice of bacon. Tail wagging, the dog wolfed it down.

"Traitor," Astrid grumped as the mutt sped to the hall and came back with his collar and lead. "Just keep an eye on him, Toothless! I don't trust Heather." But oblivious, Hiccup deftly fastened on the collar and leash then pulled on his long coat and wrapped the green scarf Astrid had given him around his neck.

"Ready, bud?" he asked as he grabbed his keys and the dog wagged his tail happily. "Let's go!" Hiccup grinned and they headed out of the house.

Astrid tailed them as they walked into town. It was a long walk which she had done several times now because she had needed to get back from the cemetery and Dagur's apartment and couldn't hail a cab. Hiccup's stride was long and easy and it evoked all sorts of memories of lazy walks in the park, his hand clasped with hers, his gentle voice teasing her or just talking about nothing important at all. Toothless was ambling along happily: he loved walks and would walk all day, if he was given the chance. But as they approached the centre of Berk and the office, the sense of foreboding Astrid had was just rising and rising.

"Toothless-remember-watch over Hiccup," she said as they walked into the building and took the elevator up to the offices of HOFFERSON INVESTMENTS. Astrid hung back as the ping sounded and the doors of the elevator opened. With a shiver of memory, Hiccup walked confidently through the etched glass doors and into the main office. The girl at the desk looked up-and then she smiled, her brown eyes widening in shock.

"Mister Haddock?" she gasped. He shrugged: everyone at the firm knew him, because he had accompanied Astrid to every 'do' since they started going out and was always pleasant and sociable with everyone.

"Hiya, Bella," he said evenly. She got up and took his hand, her face sympathetic.

"How are you bearing up?" she asked gently and he swallowed, but forced a fake smile onto his face.

"Barely," he admitted. "I miss her." He paused. "Is Heather here?" The girl nodded and gestured towards Astrid's office.

"She hasn't got anyone with her," she revealed, sighing. " We all miss her as well. She was a great boss and a great person." Hiccup pulled away, his shoulders slumping.

"Thanks," he sighed then headed to the office, nodding absently to anyone who greeted him. Toothless was walking hard against his legs, looking up at him worriedly: he knew his beloved master was struggling, coming back to the place where his master's mate had worked. And behind them, Astrid walked slowly along, drinking in the sights of her offices, her business, her life's work. Somehow, it wasn't the same any more-because the person who helped her build the firm had betrayed her. Then Hiccup rapped on the door and opened it as he heard Heather's voice invite him in. She looked up-and then started, trying to shove something under the papers on the desk and turned the computer screen away from him. Astrid immediately walked through the desk and peered at the screen, recognising a new account that had been opened solely by Heather-and that now contained all the money from all the company business accounts-including the money from investors. Sickened by the betrayal, she memorised the account name, number and the access code that Heather had scribbled on the top sheet of paper on the pile. The raven-haired girl slapped her hand over the number a second too late.

"Hiccup!" she gasped. "What-what are you doing here?" He gave a small smile and walked forward.

"Hi, Heather," he said softly. "I need your help." Her green eyes widened and she shuffled the papers further over the object, curling her lips in a smile.

"Oh?" she asked, her eyes half-lidded. "Have you been considering what I said when I came over?" Hiccup stiffened and Astrid frowned at him.

"Babe?" she murmured, seeing him look uncomfortable.

"Or are you trying to tell me you haven't been thinking about that kiss since I left?" she purred. His left hand hovered slightly over the pocket in his coat but he lifted his chin coolly and shook his head.

"Not once," he said honestly and her eyes widened in shock. Astrid gave a small smile. "Heather, I love Astrid. She was your best friend. And the cops aren't looking for her killer because they think I did it. So I need your help!"

"Wasting your time, babe," Astrid grumped, glaring at her former friend. "She knows exactly who killed me-because she set me up."

"Anything I can do," Heather said with apparent sincerity. "I wanna know who set her up."

"Look in the mirror," Astrid growled.

"Did Astrid have any enemies? Business rivals? People she had to fire for any reason?" Hiccup asked in a concerned voice.

"Hiccup-the cops have asked me all of this," she said in an exasperated voice. "I…"

"Heather-they aren't looking for anyone!" he told her slightly desperately. "They think I would hurt her. They said partners and husbands were the most common people to commit a murder!" Heather took a step forward and gasped his hand warmly.

"Don't worry, Hiccup," she said gently. "I know you would never harm her!"

"Yeah-because your brother murdered me!" Astrid growled. "And take your hands off him!" As she watched, stiff and very angry, Heather leaned closer to him, her eyes locked on his.

"You are a wonderful, kind, gentle man," she said softly. "And it kills me to see you so sad, so alone, so…"

"If I was alive, my lunch would be in my throat," Astrid commented but Hiccup kindly but firmly disentangled her hand from his and pushed her back just enough to make his position very clear. He shook his head.

"Heather-any enemies?" he pressed and she sighed.

"None," she sighed and as she half-turned, his hand brushed the papers aside-and his eyes widened as he swiftly lifted the familiar dark blue diary. "Hey!" she began as she saw him flip open the precious diary. "I…"

"This is Astrid's," Hiccup said, his brow furrowed as his emerald gaze swept over the pages of her familiar precise writing. Heather was suddenly taut. "Nothing in here…but I thought you couldn't find this?" She gave a false laugh that had Astrid growling in her throat.

"It was in her desk all along," the jet-haired woman said too swiftly.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Astrid snarked. "I always carried it with me. I know that, you know that…and so does Hiccup…" His eyes flicked up for the smallest fraction of a second and then he nodded, handing it back to the very relieved Heather.

"I guess," he said, taking a deep breath and pausing. "Heather-what did Astrid want to tell me? Why did she want to see me in such a hurry?" He turned to face her. "What was so important that she was there at that place at that time?" Heather gave a sigh.

"She was coming to say _the words_ ," she said. Hiccup stared at her. "You know-the ones she was allergic to?" She rolled her eyes. " _I love you_?"

He groaned and covered his face for a long moment, his head bowing forward in despair.

"I know she loved me," he sighed. "No matter that she refused to say it, she showed it with her actions and what she said, every day. And though I desperately wanted to hear the words, the confirmation, I knew in my heart she would say them when she was ready."

"She was suddenly fired up," Heather told him. "She felt she had to tell you that she did love you. And she wanted it to be perfect-so she went to that place where you first planned to tell her you loved her-that stupid fountain of a dragon…" He looked up and then his left hand dipped in his pocket, pulling out a small box and tossing it onto the desk. Heather gaped and Astrid covered her mouth.

"Babe?" she murmured.

"Hiccup?" Heather asked, her mouth dry. The young artist took a shuddering breath.

"She was going to tell me she loved me-and I was going to ask her if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me," he said hollowly as Heather opened the box to reveal a perfect diamond solitaire. "Turned out…she did-though I never got to ask the question." She gaped.

"Thor…" she breathed.

"Only thing I have ever used money from my Trust fund for," he admitted, "because she deserved the best."

"Oh Gods," Astrid said, her heart aching. "Heather-you robbed me of that as well? I swear, if it takes my all eternity until Ragnarok, I will see you and your brother pay for what you've done!" Hiccup took the ring box from her and replaced it in his pocket. Then he paused.

"How did you get the book, Heather?" he asked tonelessly. "Astrid would have had it with her. The first place you would have checked was her desk." Heather's green eyes widened, a shocked look overtaking her face.

"I-I…"

"You can tell me or I can call my best buddies, Detectives Mala and Throk and you can tell them," he suggested calmly. She grabbed his arm.

"I got a call," she said breathlessly. "He-he offered me the book-for money. I needed it to access our accounts. So...I left the money in a trash can…and came back half an hour later. The book was there." Hiccup glared at her and roughly shook her off. Toothless growled..

"And you didn't tell the cops?" he said bitterly. "You let them think it was me? The fact someone else had her book and ransomed it to you would have meant they had to look for the real killer!"

"I'm sorry!" she said too quickly. "I-I was just so relieved to get it back so I could protect the business…"

"Heather-it was Astrid's business, not yours," Hiccup said coldly. "She's been killed and all you think about is the bottom line-and your cut of the profits? She was murdered and I'm in the frame for that. You know, I think as her best friend, the least you should have done is make sure the man she loved wasn't being framed for her death!"

"I'm sorry!" she gabbled. "I was just so devastated and I didn't want the business she dedicated her life to building to be ruined and…" She sagged. "I'll call them now. You're right. They need to know. You don't need to worry-Astrid loved you and I won't let then suspect you any longer." He nodded, looking down at the dog. Toothless gave his doggy smile, pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

"Thanks, Heather," he managed wearily then turned to the door as she lifted her phone. "Okay-we'll go to the park, see if Toothless can find anything…" Astrid stared at the black mutt.

"Watch over him, boy," she murmured as the door closed behind them…but Astrid remained, glaring at her former friend and wondering if Heather would do what she suspected.

"I never knew," the raven-haired girl whispered. "He was going to propose? How much worse can it get?" But she still thumbed on her phone and dialled. "Dagur? He's heading to the park right now. If you want to do it, go now!" Then she paused and closed her eyes. "But once you get the ransom, he doesn't need to go home. Ever."

_"About time you saw sense,"_ Dagur replied and hung up.

"And Odin forgive me," Heather added.

"Because I never will," Astrid swore as she turned and leapt through the door, racing after her boyfriend…

oOo

The park was not deserted but certainly wasn't busy in the cold Berk Thursday morning as Hiccup warily approached the fountain. As a boy, he had been fascinated by the dragons that had once roamed Berk, had a room that was filled with dragon books and posters and models and had seriously toyed with the idea of being a paleodragonologist-but then reality had struck. Though he loved dragons, studying their dead bones for obscure clues to their extinct physiology wasn't for him: he was an artist, someone who created and crafted things that screamed life. So he had developed his art, working clay as a potter and a sculptor, studying and working tirelessly on commissions, on plaques and plates and simple pots that were ordered by shops and individuals. And what they asked for wasn't him-but he had been determined to make his own way in the world and he kept his head above water by continuing to create his own art while paying the rent and managing to got a few pieces exhibited here and there, a couple of his pots stocked in the odd shop. And his underlying theme had always included dragons.

The Night Fury fountain was switched off, the smooth dry lines of the bronze very familiar to the young man who had spent hours staring at it, memorising the imperfections and clues to the unknown creator's technique. There were a couple of bouquets of flowers laid against the base of the fountain, the simple messages expressing sorrow at Astrid's murder and he walked forward and crouched down, his arm around Toothless as he read them, blinking hard. The simple gesture from the people of Berk had touched him deeply, hugging his friend silently. Then he glanced over and saw the poster on the railings to the park, the image of Astrid looking sternly at him with an appeal for witnesses for her murder.

"It's okay, bud," he murmured. "I know. It's just…being here, remembering what happened-and seeing others pay their respects…" He sighed. "Come on, bud. Let's see if we can find any clues about what happened…" He rose and watched as Toothless sniffed around the fountain, then give a small bark and headed off along the trail into the park, tail wagging. Hiccup followed with Astrid walking unseen alongside, her eyes ranging over the park, anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

"Get out of here, babe," she said clearly. "Hiccup-it's not safe."

Toothless barked, breaking away ahead.

And then Hiccup felt something hit him from behind, bearing him to the ground. A weight was laid across him, pinning him.

"Don't move, Red," a voice growled. "Then no one needs to get hurt."

"TOOTHLESS!" Astrid screamed, forgetting she was dead and punching ferociously at the shape pinning her boyfriend, her clenched fists passing harmlessly through the buff shape pressing Hiccup down. But Astrid was an active and determined woman and had always believed in self-defence, taking lessons as a student. And she had taught her lover a few moves because she worried about him. So she felt a surge of relief as his elbow cracked back into the face of the man pinning him, enabling the lanky artist to throw Dagur.

Rolling to his feet, Hiccup backed away, breathing hard. And then his emerald eyes widened in shock and horror.

_Buff guy, about five foot ten, short carrot red hair and green eyes. He had three blue claw marks tattooed over his left eye…_

"You! You're the one who killed her!" he gasped, reeling in shock. He almost felt lightheaded-but his head cleared as the man gave a menacing leer and flicked open a knife.

"Yeah-but now I need you, Red," he growled. "Come along with me and you won't get hurt…"

"Strange how I don't believe you," Hiccup shot back sarcastically. "HELP ME!" Dagur lunged at him and the young potter ducked back, instinctively raising his hands to protect himself-screaming as the blade slicing across his flesh. But he still punched out, catching Dagur across the chin. As the buff man staggered, Hiccup spun and took off, long legs taking him away from the man-but he was instantly tackled and slammed to the ground once more.

"Keep! Still!" Dagur yelled in his face. "Or I'm gonna have to start cutting bits of you off!"

"Fuck you!" Hiccup snarled back, punching up at the man's face, blood dripping from the deep slice in his left hand. Dagur slammed his fist hard into Hiccup's face and he felt his vision smear with red spots as a hand closed around his throat.

"Shut up!" Dagur snarled, digging his knife into the soft flesh under Hiccup's jaw. "Now you are going to come quietly with me and then Daddy is going to pay a nice fat ransom for his precious little son…"

"Get away from him!" Astrid shouted, swiping at him again, her furious punches and kicks passing through him like smoke. "Don't you dare touch him!"

"Who-who are you?" Hiccup grunted, tasting blood. He thought he could hear barking. "Why are you doing this?"

Dagur screamed as teeth clamped furiously on the arm holding the knife and he was borne away by the impact as Toothless attacked him, growls filling the air. Hiccup rolled away, grasping for breath and scrambling to his knees.

"HELP!" he grunted, glancing back to see Dagur manage to throw the furious black dog. Toothless bounded back, savaging the man once more. Stumbling up, Hiccup glanced around, seeing the few other users of the park heading in his direction, summoned by the barks and growls more than his pathetic shouts. Breathing hard, he turned back-to see Dagur kick Toothless aside, blood smeared all over his arms from the dog's valiant defence. Backing up, the potter gripped his bleeding hand and dodged as Dagur grabbed his knife.

"If I can't take you, she said you weren't to go home," he growled and lifted the blade. Utterly shocked and freezing, Hiccup could only stare as the bloody blade flashed-and then a black blur leapt, hitting the attacker as he lunged at him. There was a yelp and a thud as a body hit the ground. Shocked at the sudden reversal, Dagur stared into Hiccup's eyes as shouts and footsteps and approached-and then he ran. But Hiccup had dropped to his knees by Toothless, lying limp on the ground with the knife still jutting out of his chest, his green eyes wide as he stared faithfully up at his master. He gave a tiny whine and his tail gave one final thump before the light faded in his green eyes and he went limp.

Hiccup screamed in desolation, bending forward to hug the limp shape as the first people clustered around him, checking how he was and phoning the cops and an ambulance.

"No, bud…please don't leave me as well. How-how can I go on without you as well as without Astrid? Oh Thor…please…"

Astrid felt her heart shatter even more at his despairing pleas, as she saw the man she loved utterly broken by the loss of his best friend. And she felt completely hopeless, completely useless-because she had watched and he been able to do nothing.

"I'm so sorry, babe," she murmured. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save him. I couldn't save you. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't do anything to protect you." She paused and her fists clenched. "I have to find a way."


	11. Eleven

**Eleven.**

She stared silently as the first sirens sounded, standing invisibly with her hands resting on Hiccup's hunched shoulders as he remained on his knees by the limp shape of Toothless. She watched, almost feeling hollow, as Detectives Mala and Throk arrived and took in the scene, took statements from the witnesses, supervised the CSIs as they tagged and bagged the knife, swabbed the blood from Toothless's mouth for DNA and took a brief statement from Hiccup. The man was pale and drained, emerald eyes dulled and shoulders slumped. His left hand had been badly cut and he needed stitches but he had asked for it to be bandaged first so the hand was wrapped tightly by the concerned EMTs. But at the end, he looked up into the cool eyes of the police officers.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked sarcastically. "Some lunatic tries to kidnap me-and then kill me. He murders my dog…"

"You can't murder a dog," Throk pointed out.

"In this case, you can," Astrid snarked, folding her arms.

"You could have paid him yourself to give you an alibi…" Mala added as Hiccup shared at her incredulously.

"Really? You think I would threaten my own life, injure myself so I may ruin my ability to sculpt which is literally the only thing I have left now and kill Toothless, the only person who has kept me going since Astrid was murdered? Are you that inflexible that you have to stuck to your ridiculous theory that I killed the woman I loved, the woman I was about to propose to rather than chase the real killer who has just threatened my life?" he shouted at them, slowly clambering to his feet. "I've given my statement. So have the witnesses. Now I want to go home. Can I take Toothless to give him a proper burial or are you going to keep him as 'evidence'?" There was such scorn in his expression that Mala had to look away.

"No," she said quietly. "You can take your dog. We'll drive you home…" Hiccup shook his head, leaning down to lift Toothless with a grunt. The EMTs had kindly wrapped the dog in a blanket and the tall potter hugged the limp shape to his body.

"I'll get a cab, thanks," he said stubbornly. "You expend your energies on actually looking for the person who did this." Astrid stared at them as they shared a look, then walked away, letting him walk past the fountain to the main road with his burden, hail and cab and sit woodenly on the back seat during the drive home. Seeing him struggle made her feel more ashamed that she was useless to him, her hand ghosting through his, hoping he knew she was with him…and feeling horrible guilt for Toothless's death. Though a small part of her reminded her that the dog would have defended his master to the death, with or without her prompting.

Once they had arrived back at the house, he shed his coat and headed out into the yard with Toothless and a shovel. And Astrid felt utterly wretched as she watched him dig like a man possessed, sweat dripping from his face as he excavated the grave of this best friend. He didn't look up or slow as a light shower blew through or when the door to the house opened and Stoick and Gobber walked out, equally concerned expressions on both their faces. His father gaped as he saw the young man working.

"HICCUP!" he yelled and for a moment, he looked up, his face colourless and emerald eyes dulled. Swiping his brow with his grimy bandage, he turned away and continued digging as Stoick raced forward, grabbing his wrist gently and stopping him.

"Let me go," Hiccup said through his teeth. "I have to do this." Gobber ambled up and shook his head.

"Let us help, laddie," he offered, eyeing the hole. Toothless was a big dog and he needed a bigger grave. Hiccup shook his head, his bruised face alarming his father and Gobber.

"Gods, will you let me do something myself?" he exploded, glaring at his visitors. "I mean, clearly, there is something wrong for me for them to take Astrid and now Toothless-and there's nothing I can do!"

"Son-what happened?" Stoick asked, his eyes sweeping the younger man's face.

"It was him," Hiccup said wildly. "The man that-that fraud told us about. He's real! He tried to kidnap me-and he killed Toothless when he defended me. Gods, it's me, isn't it? Am I the reason why they were both killed?" Stoick caught his shoulders, seeing his face wild with grief and despair. He wrapped his arms around the tall, lean shape, shaking with grief.

"Son, you have done nothing to cause this," the financier said gravely.

"Neither of us did," Astrid added.

"Dad-how can I go on?" Hiccup groaned, screwing his eyes closed. "Toothless was the only person I had. I've lost Astrid, I've lost my bud…" Stoick stared at him, seeing moisture on his face-and his eyes drifted to the grimy and bloodstained bandage on his left hand. Worried, he grasped the wrist and stared at the injury.

"Son-what happened?" he asked and the young man shook his head.

"It was the man Ruffnut described," he said distractedly. "Buff, carrot red hair, pale green eyes, three blue claw-marks tattooed over his left eye. He tried to kidnap me…wanted to ask you for a ransom. He knew who we both were, Dad! And I fought him…so he tried to kill me and I put my hand up and well, he cut me and they said I need stitches but I had to get him home…" Stoick rested a hand on Hiccup's shoulder and sighed.

"I'll dig the hole, son-and then we'll take you to get that tended," he decided. "I have to look after you, Hiccup. Gods, I am so sorry." Nodding, the auburn-haired potter pulled away and grabbed the shovel.

"Thanks," he said tonelessly. "But you know I gotta do this, Dad. He was my best friend. I had him from a puppy. He died to save me. I owe him this." Stoick nodded.

"We'll all help," he said decisively. "And then we're taking you to my surgeon-and then home." But Hiccup was already back digging, his eyes trailing over the blanket-swathed shape.

"I'm sorry, bud," he murmured. But behind him, Stoick had pulled out his cell, speed-dialling the familiar number.

"Eret? I have another job for you," he said gruffly. "I need you to find out everything about a suspect in an attack on my son…"

Astrid watched him and then turned away. She was more angry than she had ever been…and a memory reared its head.

"Look after him," she said, turning to the house. "I know what I can do now. They won't get away with this…"

oOo

Fungus's Bar was almost deserted at this time of day as she phased straight through the door and cast around. There was the tinny sound of last night's game playing on the TV in the corner and one drooping drunk halfway alone the bar, nursing a very small soda that was the agreement for the man to practically live in the bar. Astrid glanced over to the barman, who was reading the paper and she finally saw the old, ornery ghost in the corner.

He saw her instantly and leapt to his feet, a growl vibrating in his throat. In daylight, she could see he was a skinny, miserable looking specimen with long whiskers and a floppy, miserable moustache-but he looked angry and he was bristling with power as he approached her.

"I said this were me bar!" he shouted but she raised her hands, backing up a pace.

"Understood!" she said hastily, utilising her skills from a score of negotiations. "Don't worry-I have my own place to go. I am actually here to see you!"

He stopped then, his mean eyes widening slightly as he stared at her.

"Yer what?" he asked suspiciously. "No one ever comes ter see me! Even when I were alive…"

_I can believe that,_ she thought but nodded sympathetically. "That must have been hard," she offered aloud and he gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Not really," he admitted. "Not really a people person."

"Yet you ran a bar," she noted.

"I liked me bar," he told her, leading her back to his corner table. "It were just the patrons I couldn't stand…" Her eyes widened and she tried not to stare-but he began to make a wheezing noise that she belatedly realised was laughter. "They were always so demanding. They wanted credit-which I never offered, they wanted tabs-which I never offered-and they expected me ter be pleasant and accommodating. Which I ain't."

_That's for sure._

"I'm Astrid," she said calmly, putting on her best 'dealing with an insane client' face. "What do I call you?" He stared at her for a long minute.

"Mildew," he said. "Coz it's me name." She nodded, her eyes flicking over the bar: it needed a good overhaul, redecoration and new fixtures but she had the strangest feeling that Mildew liked it just the way it was. He stared at her beautiful shape, as if reading her mind. "So why're yer here, Miss Uptown?" She sighed.

"I need your help, Mildew," she said. His face automatically closed.

"I ain't interested," he said automatically. She leaned forward, her hands flat on the table-once she had consciously stopped then from sinking through.

"Mildew," she said, "you are the most powerful ghost I've run into-and the only one who can affect the material world. I want to know how you do that. Please-show me!"

"I ain't interested."

"PLEASE! The man I love is in terrible danger and if I can't do something, he'll be killed!"

"Hardly me problem, is it?" Mildew snapped, scowling.

"I…supposed it isn't," she said, eyeing him up and realising that flattering him wouldn't work…and there was clearly not a single altruistic molecule in his soul. "But I am. And I'm gonna stay here until you help me." He rose, eyes flashing.

"I can throw you out any time I want," he sneered.

"Really?" she asked him. "Way I see it, you're the only thing here I can touch-so you try anything, sunshine, I'm trying it back on."

"AARGH!" Mildew yelled and threw himself at her-but she ducked aside, balled her fists and took all her frustration and anger out on him, executing punch after punch, kick after kick on his scrawny shape. Going down without even landing a blow, Mildew stared up at her, his eyes filled with anger.

"I don't want your bar, I don't want your home, I just want your help!" she snapped, glaring down at him.

"Well, I ain't helping you," Mildew growled, getting up and retreating to his corner. Astrid sighed, staring after him.

"Oh, this is going to take some time," she growled. "You asked for it. _One thousand bottles of beer on a wall, one thousand bottles of beer…_ " Mildew glared at her.

"No singing," Mildew shouted from his corner.

" _…should happen to fall, there'd be nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…_ "

"Yer think yer can drive me out of me bar?" Mildew sneered. "I'm used to talking and cussing and racket all day and night. So sing along, lass. yer voice ain't that bad…"

"Yet. _Nine hundred and ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, nine hundred and ninety-eight bottles of beer…"_ Astrid continued. Mildew sat back and laced his hands behind his head.

"I can wait all night," he said smugly.

oOo

_"Well, I got my axe and I got my mace and I got my wife with the ugly face, I'm a Viking through and through…"_

"Yer ain't impressing me, Astrid." Mildew had amused himself for most of the evening by spilling drinks with an ease that the girl had been very envious of…but he had tried to ignore her. But there was no one more stubborn than a Hofferson-and she was doing this for Hiccup. So she trailed him around, singing badly. "Yer've got quite a pleasant voice…"

"Then let's see how you enjoy me talking," she said, following him into the men's restroom. Mildew had hoped she would be squeamish but she had seen Hiccup naked-and the handful of other guys she had slept with before-she she really wasn't bothered. In fact, she started laughing at some of them, which offended Mildew even more.

"Lalalala-I ain't listening!" he moaned and walked through a wall into the women's restroom. Astrid followed, finding a miserable space with a single cubicle, a broken sink and a slots machine against the wall.

"Wow-I can see why this place is isn't exactly the couples' top destination," she commented and Mildew snapped round to growl at her, but Astrid was grinning. "You can always just help me."

"NO!"

oOo

"Fiscal regulation 13729.1 states that companies involved in financial services are required to undertake detailed and regular governances reviews both of internal pathways and processes as well in relation to external drivers, organisations and partners. Fiscal regulation 13729.2 states…"

"How many of these are there?" Mildew groaned. The clock outside struck five. Astrid had been at this for over thirty-six hours and for a moment, the old man wondered if Helheim was really that bad compared to her singing, reciting every poem she had read and every detail about her boyfriend in excruciating detail. But fourteen hours of fiscal regulations had finally proven too much even for him.

"Over twenty thousand and I have photographic memory for regulations," Astrid smirked. "And I love my work so I really read into all the clauses, subclauses and minutiae of the governance…" The old man slammed his head on the table-and the whole thing jumped.

"All right," he growled. "If I help yer with whatever yer wants-as long as yer shut up!" Astrid gave a triumphant grin.

"Then fire away," she said smugly. "How do you have the strength to affect the real world?" Mildew paced through his bar, stopping by a particularly ugly picture of a sheep and almost stroking it affectionately.

"Oh-yer think you have strength?" he asked her snidely. She frowned.

"I've seen you flip tables and people for fun," she reminded him.

"Did I? I can't touch nothing. I'm a ghost!" he snarked back.

"Well, I touched you!" she snapped, balling her fists. Mildew's expression was curiously unsettling as he eyed her with almost admiration.

"Did yer?" he asked her. "I'm a ghost. I can't touch nothing. And neither can yer!"

"I thought I could touch you because we're sort of on the same plane of existence…or something…" she snapped. His smile was incredibly irritating-and his snide tone had turned very patronising.

"Astrid-I can see yer a really feisty lass," he sneered. "And that was why yer could beat me. Yer anger and determination was so great on beating me that you could focus yer energy and tek me down. It won't happen again!" She balled her fists, eyes narrowing as she silently challenged him. He tapped his finger against the side of his forehead. "This is all yer have here, lass. Yer will, yer focus, yer emotions. And its only by focussing those that yer can affect the living world."

"Wait…it's all mental?" she asked. "Then why can't everyone do it?" Mildew gave a smug smile as he flipped a chair over with a casual gesture.

"Anyone can," he pointed out. "But yer need ter concentrate really hard-focus on one purpose, one emotion, right down to a point-and then use that energy to move things." Astrid was shaking her head but Mildew leaned close.

"Oh, now you don't believe me? I thought I was the one with all the answers?" She ran her hands through her blonde hair, shaking her head. "Look, I guess yer've been mad at things since yer died?" She nodded warily. Mildew leaned closer. "Did you notice anything? Any windows rattling, things falling over, lights exploding?"

She paused and made to shake her head…but she recalled the time when the detectives questioned Hiccup, accused Hiccup of her murder and how the windows were shaking, as if there was a hurricane outside…and then she nodded.

"Unfocussed energy," Mildew said. "Yer a girl of strong emotions, Astrid. You would probably have figured it all our fer yerself…if you'd had the time."

"But I don't," she said shortly. "He's in danger." Mildew narrowed his eyes.

"So you want to protect him?" he guessed. "Well, that may be enough, I s'pose…though negative emotions are much stronger. Love just don't seem to be able to do it…which is why there's only a few of us who are strong. Never loved anything worth putting myself out for…"

"So anger and hate are best?" Astrid asked, considering. Heather and Dagur. The pair of them could probably provoke enough anger and hatred to power what needed to be done-and save the man she loved, who had never deserved any of the heartache that he was experiencing. She nodded. "Okay-show me!"

Mildew stood, narrowed his eyes slightly and gestured at an ash tray. It flipped and bounced across the floor.

"Now you try?" he sneered. So she crouched down and glared at the ashtray. It rocked slightly but remained stubbornly motionless. She scowled, glared at it and balled her fists.

"Move damn you!" she growled, sweat standing out on her forehead.

"Talking ain't gonna get it to move!" Mildew sneered. "Oooh, this may get ugly. Stop thinking like a living person…" Astrid glared at the ashtray. She leaned closer and glared at it, trying to imagine it was Heather.

"Move, you bitch!" she snapped.

The ashtray wobbled very slightly.

"Oh, very good," the old man snarked, swatting aside a few chairs. "Hmm, at this rate, yer'll be ready in a few years…"

"Aargh! Why is this so hard?" Astrid snapped. "I mean, I know what I have to do. And you…"

"Well, I've bin doing this more'n forty years," Mildew snarked. "I've had more than enough practice…" He sat back. "I haven't had this good a laugh since I died…"

Astrid felt a surge of anger and humiliation at his words: she was a Hofferson and she never failed. A Hofferson was fearless. A Hofferson was steadfast. A Hofferson did not fail. And a Hofferson never, under any circumstance, allowed a mealy-mouthed old ghost to mock her. She felt the anger flow her like fire, felt herself compress it into a fine needle that she jabbed hard into the ashtray.

It flipped a foot into the air and then landed with a clatter. There was a very sarcastic round of applause from the ghost as Astrid sat back.

"Wow-my head is exploding," she mouthed and he gave a knowing nod.

"Tired?" he sneered. "If you try something too big, you temporarily weaken yourself. You can't die but you can make yourself helpless and unable to do anything…" Azure eyes flicked up.

"What do you mean by 'too big'?" she asked. Mildew gave a shrug.

"Moving something huge?" he suggested, gesturing and she gaped as the entire bar rose by an inch before it was dropped down with a thud that shook the entire bar. "Possessing a body?" She blinked.

"What?" she gasped. Mildew leered.

"Sometimes a very determined ghost can take over a body-especially of someone who is sensitive to the spirit world," he revealed. "If they are willing, it may not drain you too much-but if not and you take them over against their will, you can be left helpless when they consciously eject yer." He grinned. "Yer may wanna avoid that one!"

Astrid sat back on her heels, imagined Dagur sitting on a chair-and smacked it aside.

"Now yer getting it!" the old man said triumphantly. "So you can finally leave me alone." She nodded and slowly got up. The focus was hard-but it was a skill to be learned and perfected, just like her abilities to read a balance sheet and memorise complex financial regulations. And honestly, she didn't want to spend any more time in the company of the appalling old man when she was missing Hiccup like mad.

"Thanks," she said and smiled at him. But as she turned to the door, she paused. "Can I ask you one thing?" She shrugged. "How did you die?"

He was instantly on his feet, his face twisted in rage.

"Some sneaky bastard tried ter rob me bar-just because I wouldn't let his mangy mutt in," he yelled. "He came back at closing time and shot me four times! I never liked dogs-I'm a sheep person. So I followed him around and scared him and his mutt to death. And then I came back to me bar!" He lunged at her and this time, taken off-guard, she felt the impact and flew through the door and landed on the street. "AND STAY OUT!" But she looked up and smiled, inspecting her hands and rising, then glaring at an empty can on the street, flicking a finger, imagining it was Heather's face. The can jumped in the air and bounced a couple of yards along.

"It was worth it," she murmured with a smile, then headed down the street and round the corner to a familiar location. "Now all I need is a partner in crime…"

oOo

Ruffnut's parlour was packed, not with humans but with ghosts as Astrid phased through the wall and stared at the throng. It seemed that word had gone around that the female twin was the real deal and everyone was keen to contact their dearly not-departed. A line of three elderly women, all in their Sunday best, elaborate hats and dreadful makeup, were sitting, hoping their relatives were present. Ruffnut rolled her eyes.

"Right-shut up you lot," she announced peremptorily. "I don't want you all talking among yourselves-it's very distracting! Answer only when called and I'll tell you what to do…" There were mutters among the ghosts and then Ruffnut sighed. "Do we have a Dorias Yasadi, Jorgen Knutsson or Anders Breiberg?"

"Me! Me! I'm Jorgen!" A pudgy man in an unflattering grey cardigan and work boots put his hand up and waved happily.

"We have Jorgen amongst us!" the spiritualist announced and the elderly woman with a pink rinse sitting to the left of the trio sudden grinned.

"My Chief!" she squeaked. "Honey, are you okay?" The man glared at her.

"Am I okay? Is she kidding? I'm dead! And I died in agony because she fed me undercooked chops because she was too busy talking to her friends on the phone…"

"He says he's fine," Ruffnut said diplomatically. The man huffed at her.

"Are you for real? That's not what I said…"

"It's called diplomacy," Ruffnut growled through the side of her mouth.

"Is he upset about the chops?" Mrs Knutsson asked worriedly. "I told him they weren't done but he insisted he was home so the dinner had to be ready for him-so he ate them anyway!" Jorgen glared.

"If you had been doing your job properly, Mavis, I wouldn't be here now!" he growled. Ruff tugged on her thick braids and looked perplexed.

"Okay, he's a bit moany," she admitted as the man glared at her again and leapt at her, his form merging with hers. Astrid gaped, recalling what Mildew had told her. Ruff instantly rose to her feet and tabbed a finger at the hapless woman. Her voice was growling and low with a thick Berkian accent-almost exactly the voice of the ghost.

"I am not 'moany'! I expected my dinner on the table when I arrived home from earning the money to put said food on the table!" she growled. "And instead you were gossiping with Mrs Arvidsson about her daughter Freda's worthless boyfriend and you fed me undercooked chops-and then refused to wake up when I was dying of food poisoning…"

"You know I have sleeping tablets!" Mavis Knutsson protested. "I tend to be dead to the world until morning!"

"When I was dead, period!" Jorgen protested. "Look, all I want is an apology…"

"An apology? Jorgen-you came in late every night of our marriage, you moaned if your dinner was a couple of minutes late-even when I had no clue when you were coming in-and you still moaned if your dinner wasn't waiting-or wasn't warm…" Mavis replied hotly. "I…"

Ruffnut shivered from head to toe and Astrid saw the ghost of Jorgen Knutsson ejected from her body. She slumped into her chair and sighed, breathing hard as the ghost collapsed to the ground. "Get out of me," she muttered. "Thor, I never want to feel that again! That was…gross. Ewww!"

"Jorgen?"

"That was just…nasty!" Ruff continued, pulling a face. "That's enough for the day. All of you-scoot!" She paused. "GO. AWAY!" she added to make sure they got the message. Mrs Knutsson and her friends rose and left and the ghosts drifted away, leaving just Astrid and the female twin.

"Hello, Ruff," she said. The woman's grey-blue eyes snapped open and she looked around wildly.

"Not YOU again!" she protested. "I am NOT doing anything again. All I got last time was a disturbed night and a visit from the cops for attempting to pervert the course of justice! You've had your shot, missis, and you blew it!" Astrid smiled and then concentrated, pulled a chair back and then made sure she dented the cushion.

"I'm not going anywhere and I've been practising my singing," she said smugly. "Look-the man who killed me is the brother of my best friend. She set me up. And now, because my boyfriend is poking around because the cops think he killed me, she's set her murderous brother after Hiccup!" Ruff poked her fingers in her ears.

"Lalalaalalalaa! I am not listening! Even if he is a hottie!" Ruff announced. Astrid leaned forward, her tone stern.

"You know you're going to do this. I know you're going to do this. So why not save yourself some horrible singing and just say yes!"

"I am not saying yes!" Ruff shouted.

"Yes to what?" Tuff asked, hearing her from the waiting room. She looked up plaintively.

"She's back!" she whined.

"What-oh, Astrid Hofferson?" he guessed. She gaped.

"What? Loki-you remember her name?" she huffed. "You hardly remember MY name!" Tuff shrugged.

"My job as your twin," he admitted, idly tidying up the room and wrestling the door through to their personal apartment open. "Beer?"

"Three!" Ruff said urgently and then she slumped back in the seat. "Okay-so assuming I want to get involved in your tragedy and try to get myself killed, what will this involve?" Astrid sat up with a smile on her face.

"Nothing much," she said cheerfully. "Just stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from the woman who murdered me for them!" Then was a pause and Ruffnut sat bolt upright.

"I'm in," she said.


	12. Twelve

**Twelve.**

"This is insane!" Ruffnut grumbled as they paused outside the main branch of BerkBank, just off Chietain's Plaza. Tuffnut had insisted on accompanying his sister, since he was genuinely worried about her safety. His sister had explained exactly what they were facing and though he had expressed his concerns, he could see that Ruff was determined to help. And then mention of all that money had allayed his disquiet as well. Astrid stared at her: Ruffnut had attempted to dress smartly-presumably in the dress she wore for her various court appearances-but seeing the woman in her bright pink strapless satin party dress with a bolero style black jacket and improbably high heels, she wondered if anyone would take the woman seriously at all.

"Do _exactly_ what I say," Astrid told her firmly, clenching her fists. Tuff was looking more normal-though this was a relative term with his long blond dreadlocks-because he was wearing a skinny brown single-breasted pinstripe suit with pale cream shirt and tie. The only thing that ruined the effect were his green converse. He took his sister's arm and looked into her worried eyes.

"You okay, butt-elf?" he asked in a low voice and she nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"Did you ever think we may accidentally be working on the good side for once?" she asked him and he shuddered.

"Yeah-I was trying to forget that," he grumped. "If word of this gets out, we'll be thrown out of the family-literally."

"Hey-that's true!" Ruff admitted. "Can I change my mind, Ast?"

"AST?" the ghost snapped and narrowed her eyes. The diminutive echoed Heather's name for her and she needed to keep her volcanic temper under wraps. "Focus! I need you to listen to me. You will walk up to the main information desk and ask for the personal accounts manager. Introduce yourself as Miss Wenda Shearer." Ruff rolled her eyes.

"Do I look like a Wenda?" she huffed.

"You do today," Astrid told her firmly.

"Wenda?" Tuff giggled, pointing at his hapless sister. "What did you do to deserve that?" Ruff turned and punched him then stomped into the Bank, pausing just inside and gaping.

BerkBank was the premier bank in the Archipelago, a massive marble-lined construct with a high ceiling to the main hall, deep green carpet and frosted glass etched with the double-headed axe of the Bank on all windows and surfaces. Tuff arrived and blinked, then linked his arms with his twin and the two walked confidently up to the main information desk, looking really confident since they were experienced confidence tricksters. There was an awkward pause and then the very homely and solid woman in the green and brown uniform looked up, her stern face calm. Her badge read: _Hello. My name is Phlegma._

"Hello…Phlegma," Ruff said with her unsettling leer. "I wish to speak to your Personal Accounts Manager urgently." The woman frowned.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked coolly.

"You don't need an appointment as a customer with a Platinum Wealth Account," Astrid told her.

"My Platinum Wealth Account is my appointment, dearie," Ruff smirked. The woman's dark eyes widened and she reached for her phone immediately, murmuring a hasty conversation. "Please take the seats over there," she said and gestured to a selection of three neat green armchairs, all crisply unholstered. The twins nodded thanks and sat as directed, Tuff pinching a pen along the way. Astrid slowly turned around.

"We always use Archi Bank," she murmured. "No one here knows Heather personally-she chose here because they're big and busy and have a reputation for pandering to clients with substantial accounts…the account was opened online so this is her first trip in person. You have the account number, passcode and password so you will be able to access the money."

"How much money are we talking about?" Ruff hissed. The only reason Astrid had agreed to her twin coming along was it gave her someone to talk to, so she didn't seem to be quite as insane. Quite…

"A lot. Now please do as I say and…here we go," Astrid said calmly, seeing a medium sized bald man with jug ears and a bushy moustache approach. His suit was a neat grey and his name badge read _'Hello. My name is Sven Shepherd.'_ Ruffnut shot up to her feet and leered, offering her hand.

"Hi! It's a pleasure to see you …" she began.

"Managers are all called Mister!" Astrid hissed.

"…Mr Shepherd," Ruff continued. "My name is Wenda Sheeter…"

"Shearer!" Astrid snapped.

"Shearer!" the spiritualist corrected herself. "And I need to withdraw some funds from my account."

"Miss Shearer, it's a complete pleasure to meet you at last," the man said, his voice ridiculously squeaky and high. He gestured forward to a neat desk to one side with two chairs. Tuff rose and walked by his sister, his eyes flicking around the sumptuous space. Ruff made a great show of sitting down. "Please-how much do you want to withdraw?"

"All of it," Astrid said steadily.

"The whole lot," Ruff said after a pause. Sven's eyes widened in shock.

"You-you want to withdraw three hundred and eighteen thousand dollars?" he checked.

"How much?" Ruff choked.

"Dude-say again?" her twin echoed and Astrid used her new focus to prod both of them in the ribs. Both yelped.

"Pull yourselves together!" she snapped. "Remember-this is your damned account! You know what's in there!" Ruff scowled.

"I mean…of course I do…" she announced. "I had…forgotten…that there was _only_ three hundred and eighteen thousand dollars…" Sven Shepherd sighed.

"Give me the account number please," he asked. Astrid closed her eyes and concentrated. Since she had died, her memory had achieved a new clarity-presumably because all the mortal things like breathing, eating, digesting and so forth were no longer detracting from her attention. She smiled.

"9-2-1-5-…" she began.

"Let me think…9…2…1…5…" Ruff began, listening hard.

"…6-8-3-7!"

"…6…8…3…7…"

Sven smiled at her. "And the passcode?" he asked.

"1015," Astrid smiled. Ruffnut repeated it and gave a huge grin.

"And the final password?" Sven asked her.

"BROR," Astrid said clearly, though she could have guessed it. _Brother._ The reason why she was dead, why Hiccup's life was in danger-and why Heather had to be stopped. Ruff smiled.

"Bror," she repeated. Sven nodded.

"And how would you like the money?" he asked as the twins' eyes widened in utter delight.

"Cheque-made to cash!" Astrid commanded. The spiritualist was almost trembling with excitement as she repeated the instructions. Sven stared at her.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Couldn't I just arrange a nice bank secure transfer?"

"Cheque made to cash!" Ruff repeated instantly, her eyes round. Tuff looked at her.

"Anyone could cash it," he pointed out.

"Yeah-as long as that anyone is us," she snapped, seeing Sven head to the cashier and log into the computer to generate her cheque. "This is really gonna change our lives, mutton-head! We can get a better place, maybe a car…pay off those guys…" Astrid sighed and watched Sven print out the cheque.

"You can't keep it, guys," she told them heavily. This was the part of the plan that she knew she couldn't share with Ruffnut.

"What?" Ruff squeaked.

"What is it?" her twin asked, eyes searching the empty space as if loving accusingly for the ghost. There were moments when Tuff _almost_ felt he could catch the edge of her voice-but he knew that was impossible: only Thorston women had 'the gift'. Then Ruff turned to him, her expression like thunder.

"She says," she growled, "that we can't keep it."

"Um, pretty sure we can, Ast," Tuff said smugly. "Fold cheque, put in pocket…yup!"

"No," Astrid said firmly. "The money could be traced-by Heather and her psychopathic murderous brother…"

"We could move away…a long, long way away…" Ruff suggested, rather desperately. "Maybe to the Loki Mission in Antarctica?"

"Heather is very clever, very cunning and unfortunately, completely amoral," Astrid explained. "Look-he's coming back-and he's going to ask what you want the cash for. It's standard banking procedure to check you aren't laundering money or removing the proceeds of crime." Both twins froze and sank back into their seats. Sven sat neatly down at his desk and smoothed the cheque on the blotter in front of you, his hands flat on the precious piece of paper. His eyes were cool.

"I have to ask," he said. "This is an extremely large amount of money to be able to cash and I have to check that you are not planning on using the money for nefarious purposes." Ruffnut raised an eyebrow.

"Nefarious?" she asked archly. Tuff clouted her shoulder.

"Oh-you know, sis. Illegal!" he explained smugly. "Buying drugs, booze, paying off gang members, receiving stolen goods, organising a hit, gambling, bribes, prostitution…" Ruff was making frantic gestures to get him to shut up and Astrid-unseen-was face-palming. Sven's face hardened.

"Precisely," he said in an icy voice. Ruff sagged.

"Please ignore my idiot brother," she grumped. "He watches far too much TV and imagines he knows all about that stuff!" Then she stared at the man and sighed. "I appreciate this is a lot of money but you are aware that I work for Hofferson Investments and our founder, Chief Executive-and my closest friend, Astrid Hofferson-was recently murdered…" Sven's face instantly changed and he looked shocked and sympathetic.

"Oh, I am sorry," he mumbled, reaching for the tissues, Ruff grabbed two and immediately began dabbing her eyes.

"It has been a very hard time," she sniffed behind the tissue as Astrid watched in mild horror. This was Ruffnut Thorston, con-woman in full flow…and Sven was buying it. "And the money in question was from her personal dividend…so rather than allowing it to be lost, I wanted it to be used to honour one of her final wishes." Sven instantly nodded and handed the cheque over.

"Of course, Miss Shearer," he said sincerely, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "I truly hope this helps you honour Miss Hofferson. Though she did not bank with us, her reputation was well-known in the financial community and she was well-respected for her honesty and diligence."

"Except in choosing my friends," Astrid grumbled. Ruffnut prised the cheque from Sven's hands and swiped her dry eyes again.

"I feel it will help her rest easier if she feels her last wishes are being honoured," she said then rose. She stuck out her hand. "Thank you so much, Mr Shepherd. I truly mean it. You have been…amazing!" Sven shook her hand firmly and Tuff's, though the male twin was shocked at how easily the man had bought the con.

"Yeah-thanks," he mumbled and offered his twin his arm. "Ready, my dear?" Cheque clamped in her hand so tightly her fingers were turning white, Ruff grinned.

"Indubitably, dear brother," she said and they walked calmly out of the bank without meeting anyone's eyes. It was only when they were out on the sidewalk that they screamed in joy and began an impromptu barn-dance around one another. Astrid folded her arms and watched them with a sigh.

"We're rich!" Ruff yelled, swinging around her brother.

"And you have to give it away," Astrid snapped. "If you keep it, Heather will hunt you down like a dog."

"She can do that?" Ruff asked suspiciously. Astrid sighed, seeing other people on the grey morning street begin to look at the twins' antics.

"All financial people can trace money-and you're not exactly being discreet," the ghost snapped. "People will remember you as those idiots who were dancing on the street waving a cheque in the air, describe you-and then they will be able to trace who you are…" The twins looked rebellious.

"Hey-we can be discreet it we want!" Ruff said very loudly. More heads turned at that.

"Yeah-really discreet!" Tuff yelled.

"Fine-but don't blame me when you two are looking for a medium to communicate with someone to complain that Dagur has murdered you!" she snapped. They paused. "Look-we're doing this to stop Heather and make sure she and her murderous brother don't get away with what they have done to me and Hiccup," she added grimly. Ruff sighed, hearing the tone.

"Come on, idiot-let's get out of here," she said, grabbing her brother's arm. "She's right-people are looking at us-and remember what that judge said?"

"You mean about scamming and conning people out of money?" Tuff asked, falling into step alongside her. Ruff stomped along grumpily.

"More like not conning people any more," she grumped. "Or something about lengthy custodial sentences being applied?" Tuff sighed.

"Is there no limit to their no-funness?" he lamented as they ambled down the street. Despite being dressed for a party, Ruff was stamping along like a labourer and Tuff was scampering to keep up. But at least Astrid had achieved her first goal-and the she smiled.

"STOP!" she ordered. Ruff screeched to a halt and her twin slammed into the back of her, almost knocking her over. The female twin rolled her eyes.

"What now?" she protested. There was a pause.

"Sign the back of the cheque," Astrid ordered and Ruff snatched the stolen pen from Tuff and scrawled her name on the back.

"What now?" she demanded. Astrid glanced across the street, at the two scruffy women shaking a bucket in hope rather than expectation, the thin black mutt sitting by their side, giving a very Toothless-like doggy smile. The sign on the side of the bucket read: BERK DOGS HOME.

"Over there," the ghost said firmly. "Across the street. The couple collecting..." Ruff's eyes widened in shock and horror.

"You want us to GIVE IT AWAY?" she screeched. "What kind of person are you?"

"A ghost murdered by the brother of the same person you've just stolen the money from!" Astrid reminded her.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Tuff asked, scowling. He couldn't hear Astrid but his sister's appalled exclamation had told him what she had suggested. Astrid leaned close to Ruff's ear.

"Ruff-you will give the money to those people collecting for the Dog's Home," she said sternly. "Heather will not let this go and if you keep the money, you will be in danger..." And then the ghost grasped Ruff's shoulders and frog-marched her across to the collectors. They looked cold, their woolly hats pulled down and scarves wound around their necks but their eyes widened and they smiled at the overdressed and very grumpy blonde who was speeding towards them, her brother running after her and shouting what she was doing. Ruff was whimpering.

"RUFFNUT THORSTON! Hand over the damned money!" Astrid shouted and with tears in her eyes, Ruff stuffed the cheque into their collecting bucket.

"This is for you..." she said, her hand not quite letting go of the paper. The older woman grasped the cheque and there was a brief but unseemly wrestle before she managed to drag it from Ruff's ferocious grip. "Cramp..." the spiritualist mumbled as the woman glanced at the cheque-and then dropped the bucket, her jaw hanging open in astonishment. She showed her friend and they both looked up in awe and gratitude.

"Noooooo!" Tuff shouted, dropping to his knees and clutching at his dreadlocks as he saw their joy at receiving the signed cheque. "Why, Loki? Why do you torment us so!"

But the women had tears in their eyes and they both clasped Ruff's hands tightly.

"Thank you so much," they said, over and over. Ruff sighed.

"You're welcome, y'know?" she said defeatedly and turned away.

"Odin bless you!" the older woman shouted to her as she trudged off down the street, Tuff crawling after her in misery.

"Yeah, preferably with wealth and long life, emphasis on the first, by the way," Ruff grumbled as she marched off. "And get up, mutton-head! You'll ruin your only court suit!" But Astrid was smiling, seeing the happiness the stolen money-her own money, by the way-was creating. In some small way, supporting the Dog's Home-which was where Hiccup had gotten Toothless from as a puppy, after he had been left in a cardboard box in an alley-was a small way of repaying the mutt for giving his life to protect her lover.

"You've done a very good thing," Astrid reassured her as she stamped down the street, trying to hail a taxi. Tuff looked close to tears and kept mumbling that 'the chicken was right!' Ruff shook her head as she waved at a cab. It sped past.

"This is officially the worst day of my life!" she grumbled as it began to drizzle. Astrid stood by her and sighed.

"Take it from some one who knows," she said. "It really isn't. Get home and lie low. I have a call to make."

oOo

Heather was still in Astrid's office and the ghost found anger rising in her throat at the sight of her betrayer sitting at her desk in her chair with Hiccup's picture still perched on the corner of the desk. The raven-haired woman was on the phone, talking agitatedly.

"I am sure we can come to an accommodation," she said, using all her negotiating skills. "If we give you three hundred now and the other two seventy five in a week?" She paused and nodded. "Yes, Mister Grimborn. I understand. And I realise your generosity is expensive but…" She sighed. "I'll make the transfer by midnight." She scribbled the numbers down on the jotter. "Yes, Mister Grimborn-you can count on me." And then she held the phone against her face after he had hung up, closing her eyes with a shuddering sigh. "Gods, Dagur-do you realise what you've cost me?"

"I think I can guess," Astrid commented, circling the woman. "Your business partner. Your liberty. Maybe your conscience?" Heather sat down and typed furiously.

"This can be traced to me," she sighed aloud. "I swear, if you weren't my only living relative, I would let you face what you've caused…"

"No," Astrid said quietly, "you had a choice between robbing me, killing me and turning in my killer-and instead, you set him on my Hiccup. And while I believe that you didn't intend my death, ever since, you have betrayed me…for a murderous psychopath." And she walked round to inspect the screen as Heather logged onto her account.

Account Number: 9215-6837

Access Code: 1015

Account Balance: $00.00

"WHAT?" Heather screeched. "No, no, no, no, no…there must be some mistake…" She logged out and logged back in again-and got the same result. Furious, she slammed her hands against the screen. "NO! HOW HAS THIS HAPPENED?" She grabbed the phone and dialled furiously. "BerkBank? Put on your personal accounts manager now!" She drummed her fingers on the desk and Astrid smirked, sliding the keyboard slightly across. "This is Wenda Shearer. Yes…what the hell happened to my account?" she demanded. Astrid grinned as she recognised the squeaky voice of Sven Shepherd.

"Nothing," he said. "It's exactly how you left it this morning when you withdrew all the funds…"

"WHAT?" she screamed. "NO! I never came in and…"

"I am sorry, Miss, but you had the account numbers and all codes…so I satisfied all security protocols…even making the necessary enquiries when we issued the cheque…"

"You gave my money to some imposter?" Heather shouted.

**IT WASN'T YOUR MONEY, WAS IT HEATHER?**

She stared in shock, jaw dropping as the words crawled across the screen.

"Wh-what?" she gasped.

"Miss Shearer, if you have any concerns, I am happy to transfer your call to our security and fraud department…" Sven continued.

The keys dipped again as the words appeared on the screen once more.

**THEY'D LOVE TO SEE YOUR ID, MISS SHEARER. AND WHERE YOU GOT THE MONEY…**

Heather hung up, the phone hitting the desk with a thud. "Who are you?"

The photograph spun round, displaying Hiccup and Astrid hugging with Toothless lain across their laps. They were in the Park, as usual. Then the seat shot across the room. Heather swallowed.

"Okay-very funny joke!" she said aloud. "Amy, Bella…Jeremy-it's you, isn't it?"

**NOT JEREMY. AND NO JOKE. OUR MISDEEDS ALWAYS FIND US OUT.**

Confused green eyes flicked back to the photograph. "It's can't be," she breathed. "Ast?" The pen rolled back and forth across the desk then flicked straight across the room. "What-what do you want?"

**GIVE ME BACK MY LIFE.**

Heather back-pedalled until she hit the back wall, hyperventilating.

"I never meant it to happen. I never wanted you hurt. He was just supposed to grab your bag and give me the account access numbers. I needed that money to save him. But you had to fight and he-he's not the most stable…"

**WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST ASK?**

"It was my mess. I had to sort it out. And he was my brother…"

**IT WAS MY LIFE.**

Heather scrambled forward, leaning so she was inches from the screen, talking in a low, pleading tone. "Please, please-I need that money. They will kill him and that will leave me all alone in the world. So you see-I had to help him-and no one was harmed by taking the money…"

**EXCEPT ME. I SEEM TO BE DEAD. FUNNY THAT…**

"I need that money by midnight," Heather growled. "Where is it?"

The cursor just blinked, the keys no longer moving. Heather swept the keyboard aside in rage then grabbed the photo. "See this?" she growled. "My brother is going after your boyfriend. Give me the money and I'll call him off."

"No, you won't!" Astrid snapped, slapping her hands forward and knocking Heather back a few paces. She shook her head. The focus needed was very draining because it was a skill that she was unused to-and she was sure she would improve with time….but she didn't have any time. Heather looked around and slammed the photo onto the desk, the frame shattering and tearing the picture.

"The money by ten or Hiccup dies," she hissed.

And then the rage boiled up through Astrid-fury at the betrayal, the lies, the cruelty to her beloved Hiccup…and at her murder. Energy surged through her and Heather looked around in shock as sparks began to crackle from the computer, the power point and the light. The screen began to vibrate along with the windows. And then Astrid screamed, the lights exploding, along with the screen and the etched glass that formed the door and wall of her office. The sounds of shattering glass filled the office as every eye turned towards Heather, who was fleeing, her purse clutched in her hand. She ducked through the last flying shards-and then vanished into the elevator…and was gone.

Collapsing briefly to her knees, Astrid blinked and then looked around. "I guess negative emotions are much stronger," she murmured and then rose to her feet. "Except love…which is strongest of them all…" Her eyes trailed over the ripped picture. "Hiccup. I have to warn him…and I know just who is perfect for the job…"

oOo

"Is this correct?" Stoick's cool grey-green eyes flicked up from the report to the tall, buff shape standing at ease at the opposite side of the desk, his deep hazel eyes calm. The man was in nondescript brown pants, shirt and jacket, his thick black hair tied in a ponytail, his striking face calm and respectful. Erick 'Eret' Eretson was a former marine and special ops soldier whose father had known Stoick and who had turned to the financier when his life had taken a serious turn south. Stoick had smoothed over the problems and employed Eret as his freelance investigator-notionally on the books of Hoark Law's subsidiary, Eretson Investigations-for special investigations. He had never failed because he was highly intelligent, persistent, had excellent contacts and a knack for not taking 'no' for an answer.

"I checked the description, Chief," he said, his British accent clear. "The man who tried to kidnap your son and injured him-and who fits the description you were given for the murderer of Miss Hofferson-is one Dagur DeRange. A career criminal wanted for murder, theft, kidnapping and up to his neck in gambling debts."

"But why is he after Hiccup?" Stoick asked. Eret sighed.

"He's kidnapped before-though he doesn't return his victims alive-and he's desperate for money," Eret added, his brow furrowing. "He must know that Hiccup is worth the half million he owes!"

Stoick sat back in his chair, his face aghast.

"Half a million?" he gasped, grasping the peril. A man who murdered for fun-as the dossier indicated-would go to any lengths when he needed that much money. The fact he had killed Astrid was inevitable, given his record. And he knew his son wouldn't survive if he fell into Dagur's hands.

"But why her? Why him?" he murmured. His face tilting into a sympathetic expression.

"I'm sorry, Chief," he sighed. "But his only living relative is his sister-whom you know as Heather Oswaldson."

"Heather?" Stoick gasped.

"And your son's girlfriend held the access to sufficient money to save him," Eret said grimly. "Her death can be no coincidence. But something went wrong-and now the attack suggests he is after your son…" Stoick grasped the phone with a shaking hand and pressed speed-dial.

"Gobber? Is he with you?" he asked hoarsely. There was a pause.

"O' course not! He's yer son, Stoick! As soon as yer left, he went home!" At the brash words, the financier groaned and rested back in his chair.

"Of course he's gone home against my orders. What was I thinking? He's Hiccup!" he grumbled. "Pick me up and we'll head over there." Eret checked his pistol.

"Do you want me to come as well, sir?" he asked gravely and Stoick nodded, dialling another number.

"Spitelout?" Stoick said shortly, speaking to his brother and head of his forensic and misappropriation department. "I need you to investigate every access and financial transfer Heather Oswaldson has made since Astrid Hofferson's death. I have reason to believe she has embezzled a substantial sum of money that may be related to Astrid's death. Yes-of course I have authority. Astrid made me her partner and executor in case anything happened to her. And that means we protect her legacy!"

Eret raised an eyebrow. "A woman of impeccable judgement," he commented.

"Except with her best friend," Stoick said grimly rising to his feet. He finally dialled one last number: 9-1-1. He took a deep breath as it was answered. "This is urgent. I need the police…"


	13. Thirteen

**Thirteen.**

"No way!" Ruffnut was lying on her back on her couch in a long green tunic and leggings, a pair of ice-cold beer cans pressed against her head. "First you make me give up a fortune to a Dogs' Home and now you want me to go back to see your boyfriend-who called me a liar and a fake, by the way-to warn him that your psychopathic business partner if coming to kill him with her murderous brother who has already killed you! Did I miss anything out?"

Astroid glared at her. "Not really," she admitted. "Though you were a fake and a liar, to be honest! Not so much now…"

"Yeah, and that's really going well for me…" Ruff grumbled. "I got ghosts whinging day and night that they have messages for their dearly not-departed and they have NO concept of time. Especially night time! I mean they come in all through the night and keep waking me up and worst of all- _they don't pay_!"

"Hey-even I'm getting woken by her tossing and turning!" Tuff complained from the chair where, for no reason, he was lying on his back with his legs in the air, his pet chicken sitting on his stomach. "The chicken is not amused."

"Look, Heather knows I am…sort of here…and she knows that the money is gone," Astrid said sternly. "It won't take long before she finds out who pretended to be her…and then comes after you…"

Ruff sat bolt upright.

"What?" she screeched. "Get up, mutton-head! We need to leave town…"

"Or you will definitely end up beside Uncle Duffnut," Astrid smirked. And then she leaned closer to the spiritualist. "But they are coming after Hiccup first. Heather wants to kill him to force me to hand over the money…"

"The money you forced us to give to a Dogs' Home?" Ruff said accusingly. Astrid sighed.

"Possibly," she admitted. "Look-you just need to warn him so he can get out of there before they arrive!"

"I would-except he'll hang up on me!" Ruff grumped.

"Then you have to _go_ and warn him!" Astrid told her. Ruff slumped back down onto the couch.

"What-towards the murderous psychopath?" she asked sarcastically. "Why on Midgard would I want to do that?"

"Because I love Hiccup with all my heart, because he is completely innocent in this and he doesn't deserve to have his girlfriend murdered, his dog killed protecting him, his dominant hand sliced open and then murdered by the woman who is supposedly his dead girlfriend's best friend!" she pleaded. "Ruff! What if the threat was to Tuff? Wouldn't you do everything, even defy death, to keep him safe?"

The woman glared, her fists balled.

"Low blow," she snapped.

"Hiccup is my soul-mate," Astrid declared desperately. "I was meant to spend my life with him. It was love at first sight…well, first _sober_ sight…and I wouldn't want to live without him. But now I am dead, I want him alive and happy because I hate the idea that he is unhappy. Thor-can't you understand that?"

"When I'm old and toothless and grey, I'll still have that butt-head," Ruffnut muttered. "Never getting a boyfriend with him around…" And then she sagged. "But I would do anything to protect him!" She sighed. "If I get killed, I will hang around with you and drive you crazy for all eternity-and that is a triple Thorston promise!"

"I will protect you, Ruff-I swear that!" Astrid promised and she snorted, then levered herself to her feet, grabbing her phone. Tuff looked up, alarmed.

"Hey-you're not going without me!" he said, leaping up. "Just let me explain to the chicken. 'Coz, hey-you're a pain in the butt-but you're _my_ pain in the butt!" There was a pause-and then Ruff punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Get us a cab!" she growled. "We haven't got any time to waste!"

oOo

The house was so quiet that Hiccup could hear every creak and groan in the woodwork as he sat on the floor in front of the sofa, Toothless's collar at his side and a picture of Astrid in his hand. He had returned home shortly after breakfast, not caring that his father had begged him to stay-because being away from home had meant he was away from all his familiar reminders of Astrid and Toothless…and because he had felt more alone and bereft than ever. His left hand had been stitched and was still bandaged, meaning the sculptor couldn't even alleviate his grief in his art.

He closed his eyes. "What have I done that was so wrong?" he murmured, his shoulders slumped. "Why did you take Astrid from me, Odin? Why did you let her die? And Toothless? Am I condemned to be alone? Because I will be now. I cannot love anyone but Astrid. I can't think of anyone but Astrid. And I know there is nothing I can do but hang on to her memory and hope the pain one day dulls. But honestly…I don't think it ever will. Not without her." And then he rose slowly, levering himself to his feet. His auburn hair was shaggy, his bruised face marked by grief with scruff along his jaw and emerald eyes dulled. Achingly, he limped through to the kitchen and aimlessly clicked the kettle on, catching his reflection in the window. He sighed: he looked a mess, with deep shadows under his dulled and desolate eyes, clothed in a scruffy tee-shirt, his favourite clay-stained jeans and a pair of beat-up trainers.

"And that happened," he sighed. "Thor, I look like a hobo." He sighed again and listlessly spooned coffee into a mug and sloshed in boiling water, cream and three sugars. "Y'know, bud, at least I'm doing the artist things and getting some serious heartache banked so when I become famous, I'll have a tragic backstory…"

And then the mug crashed down onto the surface, the coffee splattering and the mug spinning on its side as Hiccup covered his face with his hand. His ragged breaths were loud in the abrupt silence.

"Toothless," he whispered. "You should have let him get me."

The doorbell rang four times, the urgency obvious. Hiccup stared at the empty dog bed and shook his head.

"Go away," he growled. The bell rang again…and again. Pushing himself upright, he slowly walked into the hall and stared at the front door. "Who's there?"

"I gotta talk to you!" Ruffnut shouted back. "It's really urgent!" Tensing, Hiccup stared at the door and his fists clenched.

"Go away!" he shouted. "I made it clear I don't want to have anything to do with you!"

"But I have a message for you-and it's urgent!" Ruff shouted as Astrid phased through the door, starting as she saw the wrecked state of her lover. "It's from Astrid!" But though Hiccup flinched, his eyes sparkled with anger and his face hardened.

"Is this some sort of sick joke to you?" he yelled. "There isn't any way you can con me out of anything! I know all about you!"

"Oh, do you?" she shouted back. "Do you know I have your dead girlfriend coming round and insisting I keep doing things for her. And she won't take no for an answer-and she sings like a cat being put through a mincer!"

"You're a con woman and a fake!" Hiccup said, his tone suddenly defeated. "What is wrong with you? What are you doing this? Does it give you some sick gratification to torment me?"

"I'm not faking this!" Ruff shouted.

"Tell him I can see he's wearing the trainers he wore when we went on our first date-to Ulric's Viking Pizza store," Astrid said suddenly.

"Um…she said you're wearing the trainers you wore on your first date. To Ulric's Viking Pizza place. Honest? That was your first date with Miss Hotshot Finance? Thor, I'd have…"

"Shut up, Ruff, and tell him he looks like shit!" Astrid snapped.

"She says you look like shit but really I have no clue because you were a real hottie when I saw you last…" Hiccup backed away.

"I'm gonna call the police," he threatened her.

"Good!" Astrid said.

"What? I mean good," Ruff grumped. "Look, Heather and her crazed brother-who is the one who killed Astrid and is after you-are on their way! You're in danger!" Hiccup shook his head.

"I'm not buying it!" he replied, backing away. "Leave me alone!"

"I can't!" Ruff protested. "She won't let me. Loki, I would love her to leave me alone but I can't because I believe her."

Astrid stared at him: he was as stubborn as she was and he was deeply hurt, struggling with the grief at her loss and that of his dog. He truly believed Ruff was just faking.

"Ruff-just repeat what I say," she commanded. "Word for word. No embellishments, no sass, nothing…" There was a pause. "Do you understand?"

"You just wanted me to repeat what you said," Ruff grumbled.

"Oh for the love of…just do it!" Astrid yelled. Ruff folded her arms.

"There's gratitude for you," she muttered. "Tyrant."

"He's standing by that enormous sculpture that was the representation of the tension between modern and ancient Berk but which you got carried away with and covered with dragons," Astrid said. He paused and glanced over his shoulder at the enormous slab-built piece as Ruffnut repeated the words and a shiver passed through him.

"No…" he murmured.

"I can't throw pots-they always collapse-but I enjoy playing with clay and have managed to make a couple of things that my teacher has suggested aren't totally useless," she said gently.

Hiccup shook his head at the declaration, treacherous memory raking at his wretched broken heart.

"I punched him the first time I woke up in his apartment. He let Toothless eat my pancakes and bacon when I stormed out, thinking he had taken advantage of me. When I came back later, I apologised for thinking he was a callous swine and made him show me his works. He kissed me and suggested we went on a date."

The young sculptor was blinking now, his breathing ragged.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered. He looked broken. Astrid reached for him, her eyes burning with misery at seeing his pain.

"Tell him I love him," she said roughly.

"She says she loves you!" Ruff called desperately. But he gave a small, bitter laugh, pulling his clenched fists back against his chest and curling in on himself like a wounded animal.

"Astrid never said she loved me," he told her brokenly.

"Ditto!" Astrid shouted.

"What?" Ruff's tone was exasperated. "What the Helheim is ditto? She said DITTO!"

Hiccup flinched as if shot, his head snapping up and eyes widening as he stared at the door. "Ast-Astrid…?" he mouthed in shock. "Is-is it really you?"

"Did you miss me, Babe?" she murmured. "Stormfly says hello!"

"Why does nothing you say make any sense whatsoever?" Ruffnut yelled through the door. "You know it's freezing out here and it's raining?"

"What does she say?" Hiccup asked, his voice hoarse with shock and…faintly…hope. Rolling her eyes, Ruff huddled against the door.

"She asked did you miss her, 'Babe'-and says Stormfly says hello?" she said. Hiccup's emerald gaze widened and he turned round…to see the little glazed dragon float down the stairs from the studio on the top floor. She headed steadily towards him at chest height, carried by the smiling Astrid, whose invisible gaze was locked on his shocked face. Hesitantly, he extended his hands and she landed in his palms, her hands caressing his as they passed through, leaving her last creation in his grasp.

"Astrid?" he whispered.

"Right here, Babe," she said. "Thank you for finishing her. Blue for my eyes, gold for my hair and white for my skin: she looks so beautiful!" Hiccup listened as Ruff repeated the words.

"Not as beautiful as her creator," he murmured, stroking the elegantly moulded head, then laid her reverently onto the hall table and unbolted the door, letting Ruff in and then closing the door behind her. The spiritualist stared at him and rolled her eyes.

"Damn, she was right. You do look like shit," she commented.

"Ruff-what did we say about talking?" Astrid growled.

"Hey-where's the respect, missy?" Ruff shot back. Hiccup stared at her. "She's here-over by you, by the sound of it. And she's got an attitude. I can comment if I want. He does need some looking after and I can say what I want. I am not a parrot."

"How about a chicken?" Astrid teased, still shocked at Tuff's pet.

"Ha, ha," the female twin shot back. Seeing Hiccup's confused expression, she explained: "We're just having a little conversation because Miss Dead Person there has an attitude and far too much sass!" Hiccup's lips lifted in the faintest hint of a smile.

"That's Milady," he noted, leading her through into the main Living Room, carefully tucking Stormfly on a high shelf in the hall, safe from harm. Ruff sighed as Astrid explained what had happened to her and what she had learned. Hiccup listened, absently making himself another coffee and Ruff a tea. Finally, he slumped on the couch, his eyes wide with shock.

"So Heather was behind it all?" he gasped. "I mean, I knew she was lying about getting the diary back…but for her to know who killed you…and then to send her brother after me…and now again…Thor…why?"

"He has massive gambling debts," Ruff revealed. "I _withdrew_ the money from the account and… _ahem_ …donated it to the Dogs' Home." She sighed and her shoulders sagged. Her phone buzzed in her pocket but she shook her head, ignoring it: she could look later. Hiccup smiled, his eyes trailing back to the empty dog bed.

"That's my Astrid," he murmured. "Building dreams. The woman I fell in love with." But at his words and the aching yearning in them, the spiritualist paused and then lifted her head.

"Okay, you can use me," she announced. Hiccup stared at her and shot to his feet

"What?"

"Astrid-you can possess my body so you can…say goodbye," she murmured. Astrid stared at her and Hiccup spun to inspect her narrowly. "Look, Mister Hottie, you're not my type. I like buff and cute, not lanky and angsty. But Astrid would not shut up about you and she never got to say goodbye." She determinedly sat down on the couch. "And I think, from spending time with her, she actually deserves it." She closed her eyes. "I'm ready."

Hesitantly-because Mildew's words rolled around her mind, Astrid slowly sat down and merged with Ruff-and then she opened her eyes. It felt different-but suddenly, she had substance and mass once more. She peered at her hands, eyes narrowing-and then she saw Hiccup, standing to one side, skittish and wary, the hurt in his emerald eyes painful to witness.

"Babe?" Ruff's voice was twisted into a good approximation of her own but the tone and inflection was all Astrid. Hiccup took a half-step closer, emerald eyes narrowing as he peered into the grey-blue eyes…and saw the love and concern that he had missed. He lurched forward.

"Astrid?" he gasped. Her hand rose gently to rest against his bruised cheek and he leaned eagerly into the tender touch, feeling the pressure exactly as Astrid had touched him. In a second, his arms were around her, his body warm and solid and close. She could feel his breath caressing her skin, his face nuzzling against her cheek. His soft auburn hair brushed across her skin and she buried her face in his neck, arms wrapping loosely around his neck. "Gods…this is a dream…"

"You have to take care, Babe," she whispered, pressing close to him. Then she glimpsed his phone on the side, jabbing in the code and opening his music, starting a playlist they had made together. The strains of the Righteous Brothers filled the room as Hiccup pulled her close, one hand splayed gently against the back of her waist to hold her close, the other rising to caress her cheek.

"I need you," he whispered, his emerald eyes luminous with love. "I felt you with me…except the last few days."

"I was with you, Babe," she murmured, as they swayed gently to the haunting tones. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you, just when you had lost Toothless-but I needed to find out what happened-because you were in danger. You still are. We have to get you out of here." He nuzzled closer.

"I'm where I want to be, where I need to be, my love," he murmured, his lips grazing her skin. "I can't be happy anywhere else."

"Live for me, Hiccup," she said softly. "Be the great artist, the caring and loving man I adore. Get your father to spend my money for others. Build those dreams, Babe, and help others have a fraction of the happiness we had."

"Gods, I love you," he murmured, their lips locking. He was desperate, wounded, bereft and it was the most intense kiss of Astrid's life-or afterlife. Her hands dug in his hair and her body moulded to his as they clung together, still swaying as the music built to a crescendo…

A massive blow on the door jolted them from each other and Astrid spun sideways away from Ruff, their connection broken, the ghost temporarily reeling from the effort. Ruff sagged to her knees.

"Damn, I should have know he'd be a world-class kisser," she groaned.

Another impact burst the door open and Astrid looked up.

"Out the back!" she decided, forcing herself to focus. "We're out of time. Run-and call the cops. But most of all- _GET AWAY!"_ Ruff leapt up, grabbing Hiccup's arm and hauling him towards the French door in the adjacent kitchen. Heather burst into the living room and glared at the two escapees, raising a pistol. Ruff and Hiccup ducked as she fired, the bullet crashing into one of the cupboards, just by Hiccup's head. In a second, the mug smashed into her face knocking her backwards.

"Astrid," Heather growled with hatred, her eyes flicking over the room as if she could see her dead business partner. "Where's my money?"

"Pretty sure that's my money," the ghost growled. Heather made after the fleeing pair but Astrid braced herself and focused all her anger into a huge nudge against the approaching woman, slamming her back. She staggered and looked up in shock.

"But you-you're dead…a ghost!" she gaped as Astrid grabbed the gun from her hand and threw it clean through the front window.

"But I still love him," the ghost said, as Heather tried to dive past her. The doors to the yard slammed shut and she wrenched at the handles but they were locked fast. Thinking quickly, Heather threw herself at them to break through-but before she could impact, something grabbed the collar of her blouse, hauling her back. In shock, she found herself flying through the air, rolling across the counter and sprawling onto the floor. But though she was winded, she began to laugh.

"Did you think I came alone?" she whispered. Astrid spun round to stare into the yard as she heard a scream.

"Hiccup!"

**A/N: Final Part on Wednesday...**


	14. Fourteen

**Fourteen**

Hiccup was completely unbalanced, emotionally all over the place from the despair of losing the woman he loved and his best canine friend to the confusion and pain of Ruffnut's arrival through to the elation and utter joy of spending a few short moments with Astrid back in his arms…sort of. But the body that he had held no longer held Astrid's soul, because the spiritualist was back and almost hauling his arm out of the socket as they were trying to evade Heather. They burst into the yard, flagged with two raised beds at either side, Toothless's grave at the back and a barbecue to the right. To the left, there was a gate in the white-painted six foot fence that led out to the side.

"Get a move on, lanky!" Ruff growled against the breeze, the drizzle starting again. "She said to get away and call the cops. Probably should have done that before I let you two…well…have a dance…" But there was no accusation in her words, for all her tough exterior.

"That's Heather," Hiccup gaped. "I mean, she helped us move! And she's Astrid's closest friend."

"Not any more," Ruff commented. "Look-does that gate go into the back way?"

"And along into the alley…" Hiccup said-then jerked to a halt, hauling Ruff back as a buff shape with short carrot red hair and mad pale green eyes entered. His eyes were locked on the fleeing pair.

"No witnesses," he growled and Ruff dodged a punch, eyes narrowing in anger.

"Hey!" she protested, bunching her own fists…and then she recognised the man. "Thor…it's him!" Dagur gave a low chuckle.

"How many people know?" he said in a menacing voice. "I seem to be more well known than the President! I'm afraid you can't walk away from this…" And then Hiccup hit him at waist height, slamming him to the flagstones.

"RUN!" he yelled. "Get help!" Ruff didn't even look back, wrenching the gate open and racing off down the narrow backway and into the alley which led to the road. She was already snatching the phone from her pocket read reading the text her twin had sent her:

THEYRE COMING

"No shit," Ruffnut growled. "Duh!" Then she stabbed in 9-1-1 and waited for the answer, the phone pressed to her ear as she accelerated up the alley, heading for the road. They had decided that both twins turning up to the house would be a distraction-and would probably freak Hiccup out even more than he should-so they had left the male twin at the end of the road to act as look-out. His sister really hoped he was heading back to the house because she could do with him just about now.

"POLICE!" she yelled down the phone as she panted closer to the road. "Yeah, we need you at 29, Bifrost Place. There're two people here who have broken in and are trying to kill the occupant. And yeah, they're armed…"

There was a pause. "The units were dispatched ten minutes ago," the operator said, to Ruff's surprise. "They should be with you any time!"

Back in the yard, Dagur had thrown Hiccup off him, sneering at the lean shape as he scrambled up, placing himself between Dagur and the gate. The murderer gave a smirk. "I'm gonna enjoy this," he growled. Hiccup was breathing hard, eyes dark with anxiety and anger.

"Why?" he breathed. "Why are you doing this to us? Why did you kill her?" Dagur lunged at him and Hiccup stumbled back as a punch glanced his chin. He dodged but a second blow slammed him back against the fence.

"She wouldn't hand the purse over-and I needed her money," he growled. "I take what I need." Groaning, Hiccup managed to block the next punch and land one of his own, wrenching the gate open and slipping into the back way-but Dagur was after him, bearing him to the ground and punching him brutally in the face. "I am gonna kill you with my bare hands," the murderer hissed. Hiccup tried to push him off and managed to wriggle away-but a boot crashed into his side and suddenly, he was barely able to breathe. He tried to crawl away, but a hand grabbed his shaggy auburn hair and the man locked his forearm across Hiccup's throat.

"You're…g'na…die…" Hiccup choked, using his greater height to force them back a couple of steps. He knew his grip was really strong because of his work as a sculptor and potter so he dredged up the lessons Astrid had given him and dug his thumbs hard into the pressure point in his attacker's wrist. Dagur screamed and his grip loosened slightly, allowing Hiccup to take a half step forward and hammer his elbow twice into the man's side. With a howl, the murderer let go and Hiccup stumbled away, a hand to his throat, vision grey and sounds echoing as he struggled for consciousness. He barely even felt as Dagur grabbed him again and hauled him back into the yard, his feet skidding on the slippery flagstones.

"You first!" Dagur screamed, punches raining upon the sagging shape. But Hiccup didn't give up, trying to trade blows yet receiving far more than he gave-but he felt ribs snap and another blow to the side of his head had him dizzy and dropping to his knees. Another kick to his side drew a pained scream from him as Dagur rose over him triumphantly. "Time's up!" he snarled and flicked open his knife. But Hiccup lifted up his head and gave a grim smile, his face bloody.

"I know something you don't," he breathed painfully. "Ghosts are real." He closed his eyes. "Do it."

oOo

Astrid turned back to Heather to see the woman scramble to her feet, snatching a knife from the kitchen counter. Anger raged through the ghost and she threw Heather back, swinging the couch round to trap her in the corner of the room. Without even sparing a glance, she raced through the kitchen-literally-and through the glass door into the yard-to see Dagur standing over Hiccup. _Her_ Hiccup, beaten and bloody and inviting the murderer to end it.

Without even breaking pace, she spied a pot with a small heather in that they had planted in gratitude to their friend-and flung it straight at Dagur. The man staggered sideways, soil exploding around him in a cloud as small stones, a trowel and a plastic chair all hit him. Confused, the murderer slashed out with his knife, frantic at the enemy he couldn't see.

"Show yourself!" he shouted as a blow slammed into him. Astrid was furious as she saw Hiccup slide onto his side, breathing painfully as she focussed fiercely.

"Go get 'im, Milady," he murmured as his eyes closed. Astrid mimed a punch and the attacker staggered back, his head snapping round with a blow a boxer would be proud of.

"COWARD!" Dagur yelled, challenging her frantically. Throwing her arms wide, she flung them round in a wide sweep-and Dagur flew through the air, crashing through the gate and rolling on the cold ground. Astrid paced menacingly through the fence, eyes locked implacably on the man. His pale green eyes were wild with fear now as she gestured and trash began slamming into him. The lids of the trash cans flew through the air and hit him as he backed away. He stumbled into the alley as she followed, watching him slash away with the knife, over and over.

"I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed as she watched him turn around, over and over, eyes desperately searching for something he could not see. And then he heard the scraping. Trembling, he turned to see marks appear, letters carved out of the very brick of the wall.

**M-U-R-D-E…**

Dagger's jaw dropped and the knife fell from his nerveless hand.

**MURDERER.**

"NO!" he screamed. "It wasn't my fault! IT WASN'T…MY…FAULT…!"

**YES IT WAS.**

"I didn't mean to…" the man gabbled, eyes still jerking from side to side, trying to see who was tormenting him. There was a crash and Heather emerged through the gate, a knife in her hand. "What…can I do…?"

**D-I-E**

Astrid punched him across the face once more and he screamed, running blinding from the alley, the ghost in pursuit. But it was getting dark, the drizzle making the visibility poor and roads slippery. The murderer erupted out of the alley onto the road…

…straight into the path of a police car. There was a screech and a thud…an audible crack and drawn out hiss…

…and Dagur found himself rolling across the tarmac of the road, then looking up, checking himself for injuries.

"That was close," he mumbled-and then saw the beautiful blonde young woman, staring at him with regret and anger.

"No, it wasn't," she said and pointed to the police car…

…which was stopped in the middle of the road, a body sprawled across the windshield. Dagur stared at the buff shape, stared into his own sightless eyes, the blood still welling from his mouth and the unnatural angle of his head telling him that the woman was right. He looked at his hands, shaking-and then he looked up at her.

"I killed you," he said, a sudden smirk on his face. "You did this to me…so now I get to pay you back…"

But Astrid heard them first, the low groans and growls edging her hearing because she knew what to expect. The shadows were moving, flowing like black sand across the street as they came. Dagur looked around, suddenly seeing the darkness closing on him and backing away, punching out to try to ward them off.

"I'm sorry," she said as Heather's scream cut through the air. Peripherally, she saw a police officer move to comfort her as she stared at her dead brother-but the woman broke away and ran in the direction she had come…

Dagur was surrounded, the shades flowing around him, swathing him with utter cold and darkness and unimaginable pain…the pain he had inflicted on his victims… Suddenly, though he struggled, there was nothing he could do to escape them. He was caught and his screams grew more urgent and more desperate.

"No!" he waited. "Please, no! Help me! _Spare me! PLEASE!"_

_And how many of your victims have begged for the same?_ Astrid thought as she watched in horror. There was the smallest grain of sympathy because she knew what he faced for eternity was the opposite of paradise…but he had killed her and Toothless and tried to kill Hiccup…and had destroyed however many others. Dagur was screaming, swathed in the black sand as he was dragged back into he shadows, fading away into he darkness. There was one final echo of 'Sis…help!' and then he was gone.

Astrid shook her head, feeling exhausted…but then she recalled…Heather. She had run back towards the house…and Hiccup… In a moment, she was sprinting through the front garden, up the stairs and through the front door…to see the woman in the kitchen, standing over the lanky, battered shape of Astrid's lover who was lying where he had crawled…and then collapsed…

"You see this, Astrid?" Heather hissed, her eyes narrowed and cold as ice as she advanced on Hiccup. She was breathing fast, a knife clamped in her hand. "You took away the person I love most in the world…it's only fair I return the favour!"

And then she lunged at him, the blade raised high, flashing down. His emerald eyes widened and he moved, still clumsy and uncoordinated from the fight with Dagur. His vision was spinning, his head felt stuffed with cotton wool and breathing was a real chore…but the knowledge that Astrid was there, that she was with him spurred him on. He dived away, feeling the brush of air as the blade missed him by a whisker. The impact with the floor knocked what breath he had left from him and though he rolled, he knew he couldn't avoid her next attack. He scrabbled back and pushed himself up as she reared above him.

"Say hello to Dagur for me!" she hissed and the knife slashed down. Somehow, he managed to move his arms fast enough to grasp hers, but she was crazed with grief and hatred and the knife was moving downward, closer to his neck. Heather's eyes narrowed.

"Why couldn't you have just done what we wanted?" she snarled. "All I wanted was for my brother to be safe!"

"He-he killed Astrid," Hiccup gasped, his emerald gaze focussed on the blade as it inched closer to his neck. "Your best friend…and my love. He did that. And-and you did that. And now you continue to harm and destroy…for what? I never hurt you. I never hurt anyone. Why do I have to die so you can take revenge on someone you already killed?"

"Because she ruined it!" Heather shrieked, leaning harder. "If she had only handed over her purse, no one would have been hurt! I needed that money to keep Dagur alive!"

The knife was almost touching his neck now, the pressure causing the edge to just dig into his skin.

"And now he's gone," she hissed. "So this is for him…" And she pressed harder. His arms were trembling, his vision blurring. He knew he couldn't fend her off…so he closed his eyes.

Suddenly the pressure was gone, her body slammed aside, the knife skittering away from stunned fingers as a half-seen shape bounded past. a growl echoing through the room. Insubstantial as fog, the black dog planted himself between the gasping Hiccup and Heather. She stared in shock as green ethereal eyes bored into her face, daring her to attack again. But Hiccup's battered face twisted into a very shocked smile.

"T-toothless?" he gasped. The dog gave a small bark, his tail wagging and the man slowly levered himself to his knees. "You saved me, bud?" The wagging grew more urgent and Hiccup reached out, almost able to touch the dog. "I-I've missed you…"

"THERE!" Hiccup's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock and relief at the gruff shout of his father. Stoick Haddock raced ahead of the police-led by Mala and Throk-who were swarming into the room, ahead of a dishevelled but vaguely triumphant-looking Ruff and a young man with long blond dreadlocks who looked almost exactly like her. His father's green eyes stared at Hiccup with concern and relief, seeing him battered but alive before he turned to stab a thick finger at the raven-haired shape. "That's the woman! She was Astrid Hofferson's former business partner-and she is part of the conspiracy responsible for her death!"

Hiccup felt a sigh of relief shudder through him: there, it was said. Perhaps this nightmare would finally be over.

"We've got them," he breathed. "I don't know if you can hear me, Astrid-but it's over."

"NO!" Heather screamed, seeing the police close on them. Toothless's shade turned to face his master-just as Heather snatched the knife-but this time, the blade was turned towards her own body. "No! I won't spend the rest of my life locked up by an animal! It was her fault! She should have just given me the password!" Her eyes swung around crazily and her hoarse whisper echoed through the room. "You see this Astrid? This is your fault. You killed Dagur-and you killed me!"

But as she stabbed down, Hiccup flung himself forward, his hands locking around hers and trying to pull the blade away from her body.

"No," he grunted, his arms shaking with the effort. "There has been too much pain and death, Heather." But she was fighting against him and he had no time to realise the irony that he was fighting to save the woman who had just tried to kill him-because he was Hiccup. He didn't destroy-he created. So he desperately tried to prevent her senseless death…

And then she twisted to free the knife from his determined grasp, his body angled close as he attempted to save her-just as the knife jerked sideways and slammed into flesh. There was an audible gasp and his eyes snapped wide as Heather jerked and her mouth dropped open in shock. He stared at her, stumbling back as the bloody blade dropped to the floor, bounced once, spraying droplets of blood over the floor as he collapsed backwards, still staring at her in shock. Throk and a couple of regular cops surged forwards and grabbed her, holding her helpless as Stoick stared at his son, seeing the expanding stain of blood across his chest around the ragged hole where the knife had slid into his heart.

"HICCUP! SON!" he roared and dropped to his knees, staring down into the battered face, seeing the emerald eyes flutter, dulling as the blood inexorably seeped from the wound. "Oh son, why did you have to do that?" He had never heard his father so broken, so desolate and he closed his bloody hand on his father's, trying to reassure the man as Stoick pressed his hands over the wound, futilely trying to slow the loss of blood.

"You…know me…" he managed to eke out, his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. He could almost feel Toothless nuzzling against his hand and he blinked. "Bud?" he murmured. Stoick frowned. He could almost hear the whine of the dog, Hiccup's best friend…

Astrid looked down at the man she loved, seeing his limp form stretched on the floor, surrounded by the pool of blood. His auburn head rocked to one side, his colourless face pinched in pain as his emerald eyes continued to dull. She could see it: the Shimmer, the effect she had begun to recognise from her time in the hospital as the spirit began to release its hold on a dying body, as the soul's wings began to stretch free. And though she had seen it before, she never wanted to see it begin to illuminate Hiccup's beloved face. She had wanted to keep him safe: wanted him to live on for her, be happy, find someone new. But he hadn't-because he was Hiccup: stubborn, caring, selfless. Without thinking, she dropped to her knees on the opposite side of him to his father, staring into his eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her. His breathing was ragged, uneven and the Shimmer was brighter. She pressed her hand against his cheek, willing it to remain against his flesh and not sink through. She could almost feel him, feel his cold skin, the shudder of his dying breaths.

"Hiccup," she breathed, her voice soft. Ruff stared at her and heard the grief in her voice. "You never should have done that. I wanted you to live. I wanted you safe. I-I wanted you to be happy." She blinked and there were tears on her face. Hiccup's eyes flickered, staring in the direction of her soft words. "And you-you idiot have to get yourself killed saving the person who betrayed me and planned to kill you! And-and you wouldn't be Hiccup if you hadn't done it. And I am so sorry all this happened. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have fought. I should have just let him take my purse…and then we would be happy." She sniffed. She was vaguely aware of Ruff murmuring her words aloud, as Stoick slowly lifted his head, staring at the medium.

"What? She's here! She's with Hiccup!" Ruff said defensively, seeing his confused face. "She's talking to him." Stoick's head slowly swung to look almost at her, a look of gratitude on his face.

"Thanks, lass," he murmured. The blood was slowing under his hands.

"And I'm so, so sorry I never told you how I feel. I thought it was just words, though I knew it meant more to you because we-we knew the truth. I knew. But I see now how much it means…and I know you'll never hear me say it properly so…" She sniffed and swiped tears from her eyes. "I love you, Hiccup. I love you."

His eyelids flickered, staring at her one last time as they fluttered closed. His chest rose once his mouth tilting into an almost smile as his face glowed.

"Ast….rid…" he breathed.

And then he was still, the glow fading as his spirit left him, his body falling limp. There was a moment of absolute silence as Stoick stared at his only child, his massive form curling forward to squeeze Hiccup in his his arms, sobs shaking through him. Astrid sat back, her head falling back and closing her eyes. He was gone.

"I love you," she breathed.

"Ditto."

Her head snapped round and she looked up-into the beloved pair of emerald eyes, glowing with his love for her. He was standing behind her, that familiar lopsided smile tilting his handsome face. She scrambled to her feet, flinging herself on him after so long.

"Oh, Hiccup," she whispered. "I've missed you so much." He nodded, his lips ghosting over her hair.

"I've missed you, Milady," he whispered, his gentle hand tilting her head up so he could stare into her azure eyes. "Even from beyond the grave, you looked out for me. My beautiful, fierce, protective Astrid."

"I couldn't leave you," she breathed. "You were my-my everything. My heart. My soul-mate."

"Ditto," he said with a small smirk. She swatted a half-hearted hand against his shoulder. "I didn't want to go on without you. Without you, without Toothless, I was just…bereft…" He leaned forward and kissed her deeply. "And now I'm home."

A small bark alerted them both and Hiccup's face creased in a delighted grin. "Bud!" he exclaimed. "You coming too?" Astrid leaned forward to fondle the dog's ears.

"I think he'll follow you wherever," she smiled as the air began to thicken with light and warmth. "And I think it's time…" His hand laced with hers, a grip that told her he was never letting her go again.

"Hiccup?" Stoick's hoarse voice came from behind them and the young couple glanced at the flame-haired man, his eyes wet with grief and his face stricken. "Son?"

"It's okay, Dad," the young man said instantly.

"He says he's okay," Ruff repeated.

"I can hear him," Stoick murmured in shock. Ruff scowled and folded her arms.

"Great-after forcing me to give up all that money- _now_ you put me out of a job," she huffed. Astrid smiled.

"I have a feeling that word will be getting round," she reassured her friend. "People-and ghosts-will be coming from all over. And you can help them all get the resolution, the peace I've found." She paused. "Thanks, Ruff. I mean it. You're a good person." The female twin shrugged.

"Don't tell anyone," she grumbled. "I'll _definitely_ be thrown out of the family." But she was smiling as well. The light was filling the air now, outlining the young couple and the black mutt planted firmly by the young man's legs.

"I'm with Astrid," Hiccup told his father. "You don't have to worry about me any more. I'm safe. And-and I'm happy, Dad. I couldn't be happy without Astrid." He paused. "I love you, Dad-I just love Astrid more." Stoick took a shuddering breath.

"I know, son," he sighed. He stared at the shade of his son and the girl he loved and sighed.

"I'll see you again, Dad," Hiccup said as Astrid's grip on his hand tightened.

"Ready, babe?" she asked. He smiled and his face was glowing with joy.

"Always, Milady," he said and kissed her again. And then the glow surrounded them both and with one last eye-searing blaze, they were gone.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

It had been a year, Stoick mused as he killed the engine and stared through the windshield, but it still seemed like yesterday. He took a shuddering breath as he opened the door and clambered out of the car. He had driven himself because on the Anniversary, he wanted to be alone with his son and the woman he had loved. The weather was cold but bright, the cool winter sun brilliant against the icy blue sky. Stoick pulled his huge camel coat tight around his enormous shape and grasped the keys before walking through the quiet space.

There were a few shapes distantly wandering through the gravestones as he walked to the two stones side by side and identical:

ASTRID FREJA HOFFERSON

HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III

Stoick slowly lowered himself onto the small bench he had sited by the graves and stared at the cream stones. The words were incised precisely and inlaid with gold, detailing the couple's names and dates. Each stone had the same image of the couple snuggled together, with Toothless hugged to their middle, their smiles radiant and very much showing that they were in love. Stoick had one final word added to the memorials:

REUNITED.

The man stared at the stones and a small smile lifted his lips, recalling the last moments, the sight of their ghosts happy together and then…leaving. It wasn't something he had shared with anyone-not Mala and Throk, Eret-or even Gobber. Only Ruffnut Thorston had witnessed their departure-and she, for very good reasons, wasn't talking. She had left very rapidly after speaking to the cops as soon as they had arrived and taken Heather away. Stoick had summoned her to his office a week after the funeral and had stared very thoughtfully at the lanky shape-accompanied, as ever, by her brother.

_"_ _Miss Thorston-I owe you an apology," he had said gruffly, his eyes deeply shadowed. "You were telling the truth." The female twin folded her arms and cast him an unimpressed glare._

_"_ _No shit," she replied with typical directness. She wasn't intimidated by the big financier-because she felt sorry for him, losing his son and Astrid and because, after everything she had seen, she had a new perspective. The apology she had received from the Berk Police Department had also been something to treasure and she had framed the letter and it was hanging on the wall of the front office, behind Tuff's desk. Stoick had cleared his throat._

_"_ _You do understand my qualms?" he had checked pointedly. Huffing, she had grudgingly nodded._

_"_ _I'm sorry about Hiccup," she had conceded. "He was a nice guy-and he really loved Astrid. You know, weird as it is, I find myself thinking of her as a friend because-well, we shared so much together. Even though her singing sounded like a cat being put through a mincer. She didn't deserve what happened-and he had a horrible time after she died. And I know thinking I was lying didn't help-but she was desperate to speak to him, to warn him..but I think in the end, it was better. They were together."_

_Stoick had been silent for a long period of time and then he had nodded._

_"_ _You only get one soulmate," he admitted. "Mine died years ago, leaving me her son. Hiccup wasn't coping without his. He always threw his entire heart into whatever he did-his work, his relationship, his grief…at least Astrid will be with him."_

_"_ _And Toothless," Ruff sighed. "That will make things complicated. Now people will be asking me for their pets as well as their recently departed. And I can't imagine what animal ghosts will get up to in my parlour. Is there a ghostly pooper scooper? Bleurgh!" Stoick stared at her and his eyes focussed again._

_"_ _You have a remarkable talent," he noted quietly. "And I have to admit, I was unaware that it was even possible…so it seems shameful that you exploit it to defraud desperate bereaved woman for cash…"_

_"_ _Yeah-I get almost killed and it's still my fault," she huffed. He shook his head, his eyes thoughtful._

_"_ _Miss Thorston, I am aware of your legal issues-as well as your substantial debts," he said. "Yet on Astrid's prompting, you handed over an enormous sum of money to a charity to thwart Heather." Ruff slumped back in her seat._

_"_ _So what?" she grumped._

_"_ _The money was embezzled," Stoick reminded her and she rolled her eyes._

_"_ _Oh great-now I'm being set up for that? That's thanks for you…" she protested but Stoick raised a finger._

_"_ _I have ensured the money has been repaid to the investors via the compensation scheme and the charity is not disadvantaged either," he revealed. "I propose to pay off your debts in full…if you promise to conduct your business…in a more ethical way."_

_Tuff choked and almost fell of his chair. "Ethical?" he coughed. "Where's the fun in that?" Stoick smiled._

_"_ _If you had credibility, if you only dealt honestly with people, then you would be trusted and more would be able to access you without suspecting they were being scammed…" he told her. "More people believe in spirituality than you realise. People want to hope. So if you are honest…if their relative isn't there and you tell them that fact honestly…then your reputation will grow and more people will use you. Richer people who pay better. And more ghosts, I guess. Does that sound like something you would prefer to your current hand-to-mouth existence?"_

_"_ _I guess…" Ruff managed, trying not to jump up and down with excitement. "I mean…it's cool, Mr Hotshot Financier Haddock…" Stoick smiled and offered her his hand._

_"_ _Any friend of Astrid's is a friend of mine…and I will watch your progress with interest," he promised._

"It's been a year, son, Astrid-and I'm still here," the big man said, his vision returning to the memorial stones once more. "I miss you both every day but I know you are together. I'm sure you would be interested to know that Ruffnut has made remarkable progress. She and her brother run a…an ethical business, contacting the dead. She even sends people away when there is no ghost to contact. And contacts people when their dearly departed loved ones call on her. She's still Ruffnut…but she's responsible as well. I-I think you would be proud. Astrid…your actions set her on the right path." He swallowed and scuffed his feet.

"Speaking of the right path-Snotlout is training to take over the company," he added. "I mean-he hasn't got half the brain you had, son-or a hundredth of your financial smarts and instincts, Astrid-but he has a good heart and while the company won't take over the world, I think he'll be a good steward and he knows how I want the company to be run. And your other friend, Fishlegs, has joined to help him…and he really is pretty talented. I think between them, the company will be in good hands."

A bird flapped overhead and he leaned back, staring up into the cool, cloudless sky.

"Heather's Trial concluded last week," he murmured. "I mean, her attorney keep stalling and demanding psychological reports and every tactic she could use to try to worm her way out of responsibility for what she had done. She knew her brother was a murderous psychopath-he killed their parents, for Thor's sake!-and yet she set him on you, Astrid, steal your purse. That was never going to end well…especially since Eret has found out that he is wanted for murders all over the Archipelago region. He was wanted for several kidnappings for the Grimborns and though the ransoms were paid, he never returned a victim alive. Death was really too good for him.

But Heather…"

_The Trial had been front page news, the leading story on BerkNews Channel 17 as the woman who had been Astrid's best friend and who set her up, embezzled the company funds before and after her death before finally killing her boyfriend was submitted for Trial before a jury of ornery and unsympathetic Berkian citizens. Heather had hired the best attorney she could afford-not a very impressive one, considering she had spent all her money in helping her brother. But she fought tooth and nail against the charges and spent the time trying to paint herself as a victim, rather than the manipulative, untrustworthy and cruel woman she was._

_Stoick had attended every day of the Trial, from opening statements to sentencing, because his son had been the victim whose death was being dealt with while Astrid, who was as much a victim, had no one to sit and speak for her. Stoick accepted both roles and determinedly made sure that no matter what Heather tried, the focus swung inexorably back to the victims, not the murderess._

_The detectives had reported regarding Astrid's murder, how a witness had tied Dagur to the death and how he had intercepted Hiccup when he was in the park…when Toothless saved his life. They produced phone records from HOFFERSON INVESTMENTS to Dagur's cell-found on his corpse-just before Hiccup was attacked, showing Heather had warned her brother and set him on Hiccup. Ruffnut testified that Dagur had been the 'mugger' who attacked Astrid and recognised him from the final confrontation at the house when he tried to kill her and Hiccup. And though Heather's attorney had tried to discredit the spiritualist, the fact that she had warned the police about Dagur who subsequently attacked Hiccup and then again with Heather had proved that her testimony was entirely truthful._

_Stoick's investigations through Eret and his second-in-command, Spitelout Jorgensen, Snotlout's Dad, had demonstrated Dagur's debts and that Heather had previously stolen over a hundred thousand dollars from Astrid before the fatal attack to try to settle her brother's gambling debts…and the theft of $318 000 after her boss's murder when she was entrusted with the running of the company had caused the jury and audience to all murmur and several to mutter 'death's too good for her'. Stoick's testimony about his son's death had sealed the deal._

_But Heather had one last card to play: the sympathy vote. So she had asked to be put on the stand and made a direct plea._

_"_ _I admit I have done some terrible things," she had pleaded in a calm voice, "but you don't know what it's like. I lost my parents to a horrible tragedy and the only family I had left was my brother. And though he was crazy and violent, he was mine and I loved him. And what sister wouldn't want to help her brother, when he was being threatened? So I told him to get Astrid's bag and told him where she would be…and it broke my heart when he killed her. And when…when the money wasn't enough, I knew I had to help him and I knew Hiccup was worth enough to get it. I just wanted him to be ransomed safely so I could pay off Viggo and save Dagur. But that bitch Thorston screwed it up and Astrid helped her and then she visited me and threatened me…" She paused, realising there were widened eyes and pitying looks…along with disgusted expressions at her final blatant attempt to try an insanity defence. The court had already seen the evidence from five psychiatrists and declared Heather sane. "So I went to try to get the cash. And when Dagur died, I wanted to kill him…but I didn't…then I wanted to die and he tried to stop me killing himself and I ended up fatally stabbing him. But I didn't mean to kill him."_

_Stoick rose and glared at her, before whispering in the prosecutor's ear. The man nodded._

_"_ _May I speak?" the financier asked shortly and the judge motioned him to give a final remark. Never self-conscious, Stoick strode forward._

_"_ _You betrayed your best friend, the woman who would have helped you to her last penny, had you explained," he told Heather brutally. "And you play on your 'tragedy'-but your parents were killed by your brother, who you shielded from justice. Astrid lost her parents to an accident and she never used it as an excuse. Your friend, who you set up to be killed by your murderous brother, was a decent, kind, loving, brilliant woman who I would have loved as my daughter-in-law…had she not been killed. You set up my son to be kidnapped and murdered instead of asking for help. And you tried to kill Hiccup. That you finally succeeded is a tragedy. And claiming you didn't mean it when second earlier, you had been trying to drive a knife into his heart, makes no sense. You are a murderess, a thief and a traitor. You deserve to spend the rest of your life in jail!"_

_The jury had taken half an hour to come to a verdict-Not Guilty of First Degree Murder but Guilty of First Degree Manslaughter. Stoick had been furious that she had only been sentenced to forty years in jail for the Manslaughter and embezzlement but in the end, it was finished. Justice had been done._

"She has been writing to me every week since she was imprisoned and daily since the Trial, begging me to help her," he said quietly, staring at the image of the couple on the memorials. "I don't reply. I can't. I just hope at some point, she will realise what she's done and makes some effort to become a better person. And after she was out of the picture, I decided to merge HOFFERSON INVESTMENTS with HADDOCKCORP to form a new subsidiary with a new mission." He smiled and stared across the cemetery. "I've taken your company and done what I know you would have done-helped build dreams and supported the underdog…because you loved my son and you would have ended up believing what he did, even though you are like me as well." He smiled. "The new subsidiary company formed from yours and mine will specialise in ethical investments, micro loans for small businesses, a developing economy section to support hardworking would-be businessmen in low income countries. And a series of bursaries to support new artists as they learn their craft."

He lifted an object from his pocket: a smaller ceramic version of Stormfly, a big thumb stroking over the smooth surface. He smiled.

"And that's the other thing, son," Stoick said with pride. "When we went through your house, your friends persuaded me to let some experts from Dragon Ceramics look at your work with a view to producing some of them commercially. The small dragons were amazing and they guaranteed to produce the lot. This was the first…the Deadly Nadder. And this is the first off the production line…so I brought her to you. You're a success, son. There are already orders worldwide and I'm organising an exhibition of all your works, I have art critics phoning daly to ask when they can see your work, buy your work…so you are going to be famous, Hiccup. And I just wish you had been here to see it. I always knew you had talent, son. I just wish you knew how proud I am of you."

He rose and walked forward, gently nestling the little ceramic dragon between the two memorial stones. "She deserves to be with you both," he murmured as a shape shuffled to a halt by the bench. The slightly-crumpled old man smiled as he saw the huge shape straighten up, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his cardigan.

"She looks very fine," he commented kindly. "Your son?" Stoick nodded. "I knew Astrid," the old man continued. "She was a fine young woman, smart and determined and devoted to your boy. She was devastated when she was separated from him and I could see he was heartbroken when she died…so I know she will be happy to be back with him. They look happy. They deserved it." Stoick nodded absently and then reran the words in his head. He looked around suddenly…but there was no one there. Shaking his head, he turned back to the bench and saw a couple of vehicles pulling up by his car. He sighed and rolled his eyes as they pulled up and Snotlout, Fishlegs and Gobber got out of Snotlout's truck, followed by the twins leaping out of their battered Jeep and walking forward, smiling.

"I knew we'd find yer here," Gobber said, smiling at his old friend. "I know yer wanted ter be alone, Stoick…but it's the anniversary of Hiccup and we all wanted to remember them as well." Ruffnut paused, staring with narrowed eyes across the cemetery and giving a brief nod to an unseen shape, then walked forward.

"We all know they're together and at peace," she reminded him as Snotlout handed round paper cups and popped open a Magnum of champagne.

"And we should be celebrating as well," he reminded his uncle, handing him a cup of champagne. "We know they are together-and look at their legacy. Hiccup's dragons are the must-have item for this Snoggletog, the previews for his exhibition are amazing and yours and Astrid's new company is already starting to make its first investments. Look at all the lives they are touching and improving even now!"

"And will continue to do so for years to come," Fishlegs added. "It's an amazing legacy."

"Have yer sorted out a name for the company?" Gobber asked as Stoick sat back down, sipping the liquid and smiling as he focussed on the image of his son and his girlfriend once more. The weak winter sun suddenly filled his shape with liquid warmth and he could almost hear the sounds of laughter-Hiccup and Astrid happy and carefree and in love-and the sounds of a dog barking. He nodded.

"Hiccstrid."

**The End.**

**A/N: Thanks to all of your for reading this story. This has been a real departure for me as I** **_never_ ** **kill off my main characters-and my first time writing someone else's plot. But Ghost is one of my favourite films (I always cry at the end where Sam says his final goodbye to Molly and departs) and when BrawlerGamer approached me with this outline, I thought long and hard but I felt it was really too good to turn down. I really hope I have done justice to the story and the familiar HTTYD characters. And of course, there was serious Hiccstrid which salved my conscience. For those of you who hoped for Astrid to come back to life…sorry, I couldn't manage that. But Hiccup and Astrid are together-with Toothless-and happy. And the people responsible for Astrid's death got what they deserved.**

**So HUGE Kudos and thanks to BrawlerGamer for writing such an excellent adapted plot! Great work!**

**I hope you enjoyed the story and I will be continuing with my other fictions! Best wishes to you all-harrypanther.**


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